Virus Unleashed
by A Feather of Pepa
Summary: "It's hard to accept, but you can't change the past. You can't go back and manipulate things to the way you wanted them to happen. Because life'd be meaningless and boring and just not worth living. But you can change the future and that's a beautiful thing about life. Yes, you will make mistakes. But as long as you let the past go, you'll have such a bright future ahead of you..."
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Alert

It started out as a normal day, I guess—if you consider being the "Bad Guy" normal. Being thrown off the roof and into a pile of sticky mud? Also normal. Felix being given a medal and pies and being flustered by loved ones? Standard. Me going to my pile of bricks? Regular. No cake for me. No love for me. No nothing.

But that was only the daytime! The dull, boring, haughty daylight that shone through our gamescreen was only a reminder of what I went through only a month- as live creatures called it- ago. But despite the danger and the realization of Turbo's hiding, the adventure was, overall, fun. I mean, thirty years of beating buildings up starts to get extremely annoying, especially when you're trapped doing so without any excitement whatsoever. Honestly, it may just drive you insane.

At night time, that's where the real action began. We all left to perform our own duties and tend to such; sometimes I visited Veneloppe. In other words, the grease monkey. Raven black hair and bold russet eyes, a button nose with that set and a cute look to indicate her young age, this girl rejected everything but herself to pursue one goal: to become the best racer yet. She was the first ally I'd ever made and I felt I owed it to her to set her up on the right path and to avoid being tricked by Turbo again- that is, if he was alive.

Word on the street said that his body- or what remained of it- wasn't there at all, not the crime scene. Veneloppe was terrified at the thought of him returning and fiddling with the codes once again, perhaps succeeding with his first ambition: to destroy her completely, now that her codes were bowdlerized. I was worried too, but for a different reason- would his interfering trigger another close call with the game plugs? Not to say that I wouldn't cry out if her codes were deleted; I was studying a different perspective.

I sighed in concern. Twiddling my fingers nervously, I sat on my bricks and looked to the darkening sky; the store would be closing up soon. Haze drifted across the firmament as the gamescreen flickered and sizzled uncertainly, and then wavered off. The open monitor had been shut down for the night. Shrugging off a cool breeze that travelled unsteadily down my spine, I heaved myself to my feet and unconsciously hoaxed with my overall strap as I made my way through the tiny world.

As I passed the building of which the Nicelanders and Felix resided, I felt a certain sense of peace overwhelming me. Finally, I had made my stand to them and they had concurred. I now got a cake with a proud title of "Our Favourite Bad Guy" splattered on it. It made my day completely.

Of course, not as much as seeing Veneloppe win a race. At times I would drop by just in time to see her finishing a chase. My heart soared, as did my lungs as I cheered with everyone else. Then I'd lift her onto my shoulders and she would squeeze my head- much to my discomfort- to express her joy. She'd never get bored of completing the finish line. She'd never let a grin slide from her face at the cheers and roars of the audience. And I knew that she sure as heck wouldn't forget the day we met, where I taught her to drive.

And of course, I'd never forget the moment where I saw her young face filled with so much glee as I did so. Her rich brown eyes sparkled with joy at the prospect of finally competing against the racers who taunted her for her heritage. I was the only one who really cared for her sincerely, whilst the rest now faked their liking of her at their new realization that she was now the ruler of SugarRush.

I shook my head haughtily. You don't just like someone you've been picking on for ages. It just doesn't fit. You need to really get to know them, to understand their actions, before you can pretend you know them. Heck, don't 'pretend' to know them at all! Use your genuine knowledge and put it to work. That's what I believe, and that's certainly what I discern.

A shrill, terrified scream ripped through the air. It was a girl's cry, coming straight from the Gameplug Tunnel. My heart rate immediately picked up as I lean against the Nicelanders' building, my maple brown eyes trained on the tunnel. Apparently Felix heard the shriek too, because he called down to me from his balcony.

"Ralph!" he shouted over the night breeze. I turn my head up, craning and straining against my will. "Did you hear that?" I nodded vigorously, running a giant hand through my spiked russet brown hair. "Should we check it out?" Before I could answer cautiously, another cry of fear echoed through the game world- this time, closer. The hairs on my neck rose in alarm.

"Let's go, Felix!"

Felix immediately threw himself over the balcony and landed cleanly on his feet, which didn't cease to amaze me. I shrugged off the surprise and bolted to the voices echoing from the tunnel, one that sounded vaguely familiar to a little girl I knew. Another scream fell on queue, alerting me that something was going on, and it certainly wasn't good. At all. And being the Bad Guy, I'd know all about that.

I finally reached the Gameplug tunnels just in time to have something small collide with my legs. Looking down, I saw a girl, no more then nine years old, trembling at her knees and thick jet black hair adorned with a little princess crown. Her little dress was ripped and ragged with what seemed like claw marks, effortlessly torn away to reveal a small brown skirt and a loose olive green sweater. A glitch- _my_ glitch.

Tears streamed from her eyes like restless rivers as the kid struggled to her feet, quivering in fright. As Veneloppe's knees buckled beneath her, I lunged out and caught her with my 'freakishly big' hands, gently lifting her off the ground and cradling her with only one arm whilst she stared up at me with large, horrified amber eyes. "R-Ralph," she whimpered, her shoulders quivering unsteadily. I softly lift a strand of hair from her eyes- now I knew who was crying so much. Her eyes were bloodshot with hot tears.

"Veneloppe?" I murmured, gently leaning against the tunnel walls. She shook her head, her eyes still frozen with terror, then glitched a little.

I was taken aback by this action—it was impossible. She was glitching out of her game? But she was wearing her crown! But she was fixed! She wasn't a glitch anymore—at least, not when she wore her little hair ornament. There were so many possibilities, so many outcomes—but nothing prepared me for _this!_ This was beyond the impracticable.

But there was something else…

She was _sick._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Turbo

Felix dropped in like a lightning bolt to see it. His eyes flew open in shock. "H-how did—is that even possible?!" His cerulean blue eyes were wide as he struggled to register the information. "She's glitching, Ralph—with her codes in formation!" panic was beginning to consume him. Felix began to pace around the tunnels, his small gloved hands behind his back and cap squeezed against his russet brown hair. "This could lead to something serious. Worse, it could be spawned by something serious!" jogging over with his eyes unblinking, he peered into my arms and to Veneloppe's ill-looking coffee brown eyes.

His face turned a ghastly pale white.

"Uh-oh…" he breathed, backing up slightly. Then he glanced up at me. "Ralph, brother… this is _really_ bad…" When Felix said that, I knew he was right on all accounts.

"What?" I pressed, drawing a stray hair from her face, and then pressing the back of my hand against her forehead. It was hot and sticky.

Felix shook his head, finally allowing his eyes to droop again. Concern was sketched throughout his entire figure. "She has a virus."

Shocked, I stared up at him with taken aback, maple brown eyes. Felix shook his head. "Yeah, yeah. It seems pretty much impossible, for us old-games… but it's true. Ralph, Veneloppe has been here for a shorter amount of time, so her game's codes will be easier to hack. Clearly, a virus found its dainty way into her home." At the last sentence, his voice dripped with sarcasm.

Veneloppe glitched again, this time a cough earned from it. Her colours were tainted a slight green. Her eyes drooped like dead weight, and she was limp in my arms. I could hardly believe my eyes. "Veneloppe, how did this happen?"

I wasn't sure if she could manage to speak, seeing her in such a state, but I forgot that she was feisty if she needed to be. "It— " another coughing fit interrupted her. "It w-was Turbo, Ralph… he was talking to this big, green thing… like a fog!" her eyes widened just a little bit, and Veneloppe shivered, her skin growing pale as she continued in a small voice. "I think it was what Felix said… A virus! I just know it, Ralph, I… Turbo told the virus to chase everyone out of the game!" Surprised, I raised my eyebrows. I really didn't think that Turbo was alive after that.

"How do you know? Did you hear him say that?" Felix challenged, narrowing his eyes carefully. Startled, I glanced at him questioningly. Why would he defend someone like that? He carried on a little more gently, seeing Veneloppe's taken aback expression. I don't blame the kid—Turbo tried to kill her. That's worse then destroying a couple of buildings. "Look. I knew Turbo, before the incident, and I know how he works. He would do it his own way, or the codes wouldn't work. I just need proof…" Quietly, Felix searched the child's eyes with his own cerulean. "And I need you to give it to me." Gently, I shift my arms and tuck her closer to my chest.

"Will you do that for Felix?" I interrogated the sick kid. Veneloppe glared at me with sarcastic maple eyes and glitched some more. Imprudently, I ran thick fingers through her hair and shielded her from the outdoors as we began to stroll back to where we originally were. "Please, grease monkey." I teased, pinching her nose lightly. A crooked, giddy grin worked its way onto her mouth and she snickered.

An uneven yawn escaped her throat as she looked up at me. "Well…" sheepishly, she glanced away. "I didn't hear him say that, but I have that feeling in my gut! I know he did! Somehow, in someway!" In fury, the girl threw her arms in the air as I shook my head, masking a grin. I knew that Felix had some points, more than Veneloppe did. You can't speculate on something you hardly know might be true.

Felix gave a triumphant grin. "Ha! So you don't know." He stated smugly, a flat-out grin glued to his face like he had won another medal and was flaunting it. I snickered lightly and shook my head as he launched into a long and monotonous lecture of accusations and whatnot. Me, I chose to zone out. Apparently Veneloppe did too, rolling her little eyes and grumbling to herself as Felix threw his arms in the air, babbling away at the possibilities of humans-know-what.

"Hey, kid." I said, rolling my arm out so that her head was tucked into my limb and body curled into my chest. She was so tiny, and I felt like I was holding a fragile piece of glass. Her face was as pale as the moon, eyes glassy and clouded over thickly with the hint of sickness. I'd never seen the effects of a virus on a character—only the game afflicted. My hands gently pressed against her small cheeks. "Hang in there. My place isn't far." I secured her, my voice quiet and soft, like a nightingale's crooning. Assured, Veneloppe let her amber eyes flutter shut. Her breathing became hoarse and deep, ragged as she easily slipped into sleep.

How she will continue to rest here while her game flicks on tomorrow boggles my mind. If this causes some kind of 'out of order' issue again, I'm sure we're all doomed. I was so lost in my thoughts that I failed to realize that I had halted; Felix peered over the thickness of my arms and stared at me. "Well?" he pressed. I blinked once, glanced at him with dazed brown eyes, and then shook my head. "Nothing, huh? Well, if I might add one thing…" He trailed off, pursing his lips together as he sought to break it to me.

"I'm scared of Turbo, too." He confessed finally, letting out the large breath he'd been holding. "I mean, I know what she said—she didn't know. But… I don't know…" his eyes grew dark and aghast. "Well, you know how he's always been… So into the gamers, fascinated by their admiration… he let it get to him, and now look at what happened." A great silence fell amongst us. I was thinking, my heart heavy with sorrow, recalling the monster he had become, inside and out. His pale yellow eyes, and ashen skin—his obsessions had driven him insane.

"Hey…" Felix murmured in the end, breaking the silence definitely.

"What?" I question.

"Remember when we were all kids, and our dads had the jobs we have now?" the question took me by surprise, but it also thrust me into a heavy load of memories. Felix carried on, unaware of my glassy state. "Turbo was always the sarcastic one, and he was the youngest of three troublemakers… I guess that his big brothers rough-housed him too much or so. After all, when we both met him, he was lingering outside the Game Central, a sour-face on. Hahaha…" he giggled a little at the memories… "Remember we used to tease him about his yellow eyes? We all said it was because he was so sour.

But he became an amazing friend. Every night, we'd all sneak off to the Game Central and play hide-and-seek, and rough-house with that annoying guard… Remember when he told us about his family life? Everyone ignored him. They said that since he was the runt of the family, he'd never be as good as his dad. Yet, he took his place as Turbo when we encouraged him to prove their beliefs wrong. By this time, we three were as close as three misfit brothers."

"But it was the biggest mistake of our lives." Sadly, Felix shoved his hands in his pockets. "He'd received the attention he'd never gotten at home. He became obsessed with it. We were hanging out, and then he would glance at his watch and declare, 'gotta win 'nother game, guys! See ya!' Then he would be off. Our friendship slowly but surely faded overtime, the more possessive he got over his games." His cerulean eyes softened drastically.

"I know it sounds stupid, but… I want the old Turbo back."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Beginning of Adventure

"Mmmmmm…" a groan whined from a little girl's throat. Veneloppe dazedly opened her glassy eyes with great difficulty, thing whooshing past before her like a blurry tornado. The place was dark and concealed, but at least it was tepid. Her skin rose into goose bumps and a ragged cough escaped her throat as the raven-haired girl struggled to clear her vision. She rubbed her rich brown eyes and gazed around, yawning softly as she lay in… arms? She glanced up to see a hysterical sight.

Ralph totally just conked out. She giggled weakly and yawned again, her eyes dancing from his head—which was propped in an awkward position in a pile of bricks—to his mouth, which hung open and allowed drool to slide out into the open. His entire body was slack and relaxed, and his hands and arms curled onto his lap, where she lay. "Nice, Ralph. Nice." Veneloppe chuckled, her voice still sounding as though it were going through a cheese grater. Her body was numb and she could not move, but at least her sense of humour was still intact.

Enthusiastically, she poked him hard in the stomach.

I instantaneously jumped, my eyes wild as I looked around. My grip on her tightened protectively like nothing she'd ever known. I was gritting my teeth and glaring everywhere I looked, holding her like she was a crowned jewel. Startled, Veneloppe widened her eyes. "Ralph…" she coughed. "Ralph, it was just me…" Relaxing, I sighed and lifted her onto my chest as I heaved a large breath. The girl sat, shivering lightly as her eyes wearily searched the place.

"Hey, kiddo," I breathed with a forced smile. "Just so you don't make a fuss, we're in my game… At my home." Veneloppe gave a sputter and shook violently as she struggled to cease, her eyes drooping with what seemed like a fever. Her glitching never stopped, however, and it confirmed Felix's fears.

I reached a hand to her face to comfort her and she flinched away, squinting at me, terror in her eyes. I froze my hand and brought it back, feeling confusion burn beneath my skin. "Something wrong?" She shook her head uneasily.

"Not… not really, no." she scoffed, crinkling her nose. "Why would I be scared of _that_—d-did I say scared—I, uh—" what was once a smooth conversation soon turned hysterically confusing. I found my eyes softening in pity as her eyes soon flew to their limits, her struggling to keep herself cold and contained. "I—I—" her arms began to flail in frustration, her voice beginning to grow raspy to the pitch of her small voice. "Argh!" she spat at herself in disgust, shaking her head angrily. "It's nothing, Ralph, I… it's just…"

In no time, the tears had flooded her weary brown eyes. Snot began to trickle from her nose, and Veneloppe furiously wiped it away, her eyes glassy as though she were recalling something from the days of the old. Her shoulders began to quiver as she allowed her memoir to knock the fear back into her mind. "It's just…" Then the waterworks exploded from her eyes like fireworks in the sky, streaming down her face with the grace of a waterfall.

"Hey, hey there." I said quietly, my eyes half open with concern. Quickly, I wrapped my hands around her and—without thinking—I embraced the sniffling kid.

It was stupid, really, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do. However, I was once a kid myself, and I did know that in these delicate cases, they needed to be guided through with a still hand and a steady heart. So I rubbed her back soothingly while she sobbed, burying her small head into my shoulder as she tried to hide herself from me and the world. The raven haired girl was ashamed of crying, and she was mortified further by expressing herself in to an exposed state. "There's no shame in crying." I say softly, coiling my arms around her comfortingly, all the while gently bobbing my knee up and down in an attempt to pacify her tears.

She took a soft breath and nuzzled into my shoulder, allowing my arms to shift into a position to cradle her. I knew that she was nine, and by far, was too old for this treatment, but she needed the comfort she'd never had. Turbo had found her parents' codes and destroyed them with ease, when she was only a toddler. From there on, she had been alone, wandering aimlessly while people taunted her heritage. Veneloppe had been reluctant to tell me all of this, but the more time I spent with her, the more she began to feel casual speaking about her burdened past.

And then, I believed she was going to tell me everything. "What's bothering you, kid?"

Veneloppe heaved a sigh and pulled away, her rich brown eyes sagging while she searched my own. Her eyes, bloodshot, found nothing of what she was searching for and she finally glanced to her left.

"When you raised your hand, it reminded me of when I was on the race track with Turbo." She confessed. "His eyes were so sickly and he had grey skin… But the _look_ he gave me, Ralph! It was like he wanted me dead meat. I mean, it's not like he didn't… but in his eyes… there was hate, and there was so much of it. His raised his hand, like you did, and tried to hit me. I guess the racetracks were bumpy or something, or maybe it was something in his head, but he suddenly pulled away and the look in his eyes, I dunno… it changed. Like it was shock. Like _he_ was shocked.

But at what? What did I do that scared him so much? Worse, what did he do to himself? Was he shocked at his inability to hit me, or was he scared… oh. Oh, my." In realization, Veneloppe pressed her hands against her mouth. "Was he scared… of himself? Of what he had in his power to do?" I wasn't following because her information sent me wheeling. What if she was spot on? No, that wasn't right, because when he became half-Cybug, he was making many attempts to kill me. Either that, or he was playing rough.

"You know what we have to do, Veneloppe?" I asked, shaking my head to clear my thoughts. I was hoping it would clear her own, too.

"What?" she piped, eyes widening with anticipation.

"Well," I began, grinning boldly. I knew she wasn't going to like this. "We're going to have to investigate _SugarRush_!"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: B.A.N.N.E.R.

A small, lonesome character walked amongst the fair world of _SugarRush_. His eyes were trained on nothing but the ground, hands in his pockets, his thoughts focused on his next move. What had occurred to him was a terrifying transformation, not only that, but he had suffered extreme pain from it. It turned his stomach to think about whom he had become—_what_ he had become! He had become a monster with no purpose but to destroy an innocent child for his own benefit!

When others became a problem, he simply removed them.

….

… By remove, he meant 'deleted'.

And now, he was haunted by his own shadow. Anger surrounded him at every corner, as did those who wanted revenge—hence the scars on his face. He'd barely escaped with his life with the coca-cola incident, and now he had a death wish. Pursing his lips together, he continued his glum stroll through the candy-cane forest he'd grown so used to. But however much he attempted to convince himself that this was home, he knew that if he ever even died, he'd never come back.

Turbo halted at a giant candy cane, staring at the length of this mystery. Then he whistled. "Wow. What a height!" he commented, a crooked grin growing on his face. "_Turbo Time_ never had anything like this..." A glint of sadness passed through his eyes, but faded with bitterness. "But hey, it's not like I _cared_ about that stupid game. When the other racer game came along, the gamers just _abandoned_ it." Bitterly, Turbo grit his teeth together, giving all his power to hide the glimmer of tears in his eyes, though no one looked on to see such a sight.

"Rrrrgh!" he half-screamed, half-mumbled. He hated losing. Especially when he lost to his own rationale thoughts. "I wanted to win!" he screeched to no one in particular, feeling his head heat up with fury. "I wanted to be loved!" He slammed his foot into the trunk of the candy tree—which, ultimately and sadly, backfired. Pain shot up his leg as Turbo released a gasp of pain, retreating from the candy cane. "Owww…" he whispered, and felt his knees buckle from beneath him. The weak character leaned against another tree-thing, which happened to be the very owner of many Double-Stripe branches.

Unlucky.

A shrill, inhuman scream cried through the air, followed by annoying bird-squawks as two squabbling birds flapped their wings frantically, in a desperate attempt to escape an… let's go with unlucky… branch.

**REEEAAAAHHHH!**

**SMACK!**

"AGH! GET OFF ME, YOU DUMB BIRDS!"

Turbo gave a squeak of shock as a slender ashen bird smacked down on his head, another—scruffy and russet brown—fluttered ungracefully onto his shoulder. Then it gave a scream in his ear, an annoying, young starling cry that could shatter ones eardrum if they heard it loud enough. In irritation, Turbo swatted at the young starling female squawking on his shoulder. "Agh. I've got enough to worry about, you freakishly loud bird. Take your buddy and head off." The frosty white dame whom sat on his head was a rare breed of cockatiel.

And she seemed to like his helmet, because she wouldn't stop trying to chew the shiny, smooth surface. The cockatiel cooed and smacked her beak against it again. Turbo, on the edge of his cliff, grit his teeth and slumped against the candy cane tree. "Great. I've been half a Cybug, splattered with cola lava, washed out and beaten in by racers, and now, I've got two birds that won't leave me alone." With a heavy roll of his jasmine yellow eyes, the character hissed, "Turbo-freaking-_tastic_, much?" The female starling screeched in his ear in reply. "Golly. Thanks for agreeing with me." He stated sarcastically.

However, he became moved—but ever so slightly—when the starling rubbed her head comfortingly against the roll of his neck and gave a quieter coo as she lay down against it. Turbo gave a blink of astonishment. These were glitch birds—he knew that already—but, oh man, were they cuddly! He'd never seen anything like it. The cockatiel slid down from his helmet and wandered to the tips of his toes, nipping on them like they were a piece of candy. Turbo began to giggle, his feet flexing as he laughed. "H-hey, that tickles! Stop! Hahaha!" he squirmed and wiggled, but gently, careful not to hurt the small critter.

His laughter brought unwanted visitors, and it certainly wouldn't bring him joy to notice.

A hissing filled the air. The cockatiel on his toes perked up instantaneously in alarm, her crest rising at the uprising threat. She lifted her wings possessively over his foot, her beak open in the beginnings of a snarl. Turbo recognised this as "dominance". It occurred when an animal takes a fancy to an object or human, etc, and tries to claim ownership or, in some rare cases, guard it. The character, studying it thoughtfully and taking no notice of the strange noise filling his ears, decided to name this creature based on her personality: Sweetie. It was easy to remember, and it definitely was who she is.

The hissing became louder, almost unbearable, but he grew a high tolerance for it. Turbo lifted a hand out to Sweetie and she obediently clambered on, a strange hoot coming directly from her throat. The starling on his shoulder perked up, startled from her sleep, and curiously peeked around for a cause of this strange jeering. Turbo stood and repeated the motion, but he saw nothing. However, the dames' feathers both lifted in alarm. Clearly, something was wrong, but it was invisible. At least, to him.

"Hello, old friend."

The voice came from nowhere but everywhere at the same time. Concerned, he narrowed his eyes, flickering them like headlights from here to there. He knew that voice.

He knew it all-too-well.

Fog with the dye of emerald green grass surrounded him instantly. It was so thick that he could not see through it, and his only visible companions were the scared-to-death birds on his shoulder. Sweetie climbed into his shirt fearfully, and the starling was boldly peeping her head out to see more—although he felt a trace of terror was hiding in her eyes. "Paisley. I'll name you Paisley." Turbo murmured, oblivious to his surroundings. Paisley appeared to enjoy her nickname, and gave a happy screech. The voice hissed again, bringing forth his attention, and he leaned against the candy cane stump with a sigh.

"Do you remember me?" It seemed innocently curious. The voice had no gender that he could distinguish.

There was no easy way for him to state that he was in trouble—he hated defeat of any kind. Turbo felt his heart exhilarate with a feeling- adrenaline? His legs were buckling underneath him, and his shoulders quivered with explicit fear. Perhaps it was, on all accounts. "My oh my... You look quite different!" the voice whispered, although Turbo questioned its ability to see when it was just mere fog. However, he never anticipated it to have eyes- big, green eyes popped from the fog, taking him in. "Then I guess this is the real you. No King Candy in sight." Turbo was officially afraid.

"Who in Heaven's name ARE you?" he spat, his jasmine, pallid yellow eyes narrowing into careful slits of rage, hoping for it to mask his fear. The voice gave a chuckle of mild amusement, its strange eyes rolling heavily. Indignantly, the small character slammed his foot into the dirt. "Stop it, gosh darn it! If I know any trace of who you are, it's probably been deleted! Just be on your way and I'll be on mine, and I won't have to fret over you AND a stupid little glitch!" in all seriousness, he'd thought he'd caught a glimpse of regret in their eyes, but quickly realized it was solid anger.

"Geez, you've forgotten me already? You've got bad memory!" the virus scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm the one who helped you put that dumb racing game out of order, remember?"

"Yeah, and you put my own home out of order in the process!" snarled Turbo. "I remember you now, Banner. You were the worst ally ever." The virus rolled its eyes and circled him constantly, with eyes piercing his skin.

"You've got some guts, boy. But hey, if you're gonna act that way, I might as well explain why I dropped in. Y'know, cut to the chase." Banner cleared his throat. "It's time for you to pay back your debt."

"What?" Turbo hadn't intended for the word to fall from his mouth, but he was astonished. Why now?

"Yup. I'm having a virus-spree, and I'm going to have you help me."

Taken aback, the target paced backwards, alarm bells ringing in his head. "Whoa, whoa, buddy. I—… I-I can't!" he stammered, shaking his head vigorously. "I… you only know the me back then—look, Banner, I just can't. I'd defy you any day than repay your favour." Banner narrowed his eyes in displeasure. It was clear that he did not appreciate those who went back on their word. The look in Turbo's eyes was desperation. "Please, Banner. Let's put this behind us. But if you can manage this, keep your hands off a glitch. She's been through enough." This time through, his voice had hardened protectively.

"A glitch, you say." Banner grinned mischievously. "I don't know if I can manage that…"

"Why not?" Turbo was confused.

"Because, I spy with my little eye, a sneak!"

The fog whirled around him like a flurry tornado, until the virus had transformed into a cat-like sickness. Then it chased through the woods, a small figure darting away from it.

Turbo, slack-jawed and horrified, realized who that little sneak had been.

"_**VENELOPPE!**_"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: An Unlikely Reunion

"_Why_ did I agree to this, again?" Veneloppe whined, squeezing my hand as we walked. Felix grinned from ear to ear while staring ahead, secretly eavesdropping, glancing at me with a smug smile that would say, '_let's see how you handle this one._' I was tempted to outsmart him in someway but found myself out of logical ideas. '_Shoot.'_ I thought to myself. "I mean, honestly. It's so… empty, here. It's not my home… not anymore." I gave her hand a comforting squeeze as she coughed and sputtered violently.

"Hey, there." I said gently. "My home was a pile of bricks, so I know what it feels like. But my life and my home were changed after everything last month, with a little help from Felix here." I gestured with another hand to the snickering little character—then narrow my eyes. "Mr. Fix-It doesn't seem very _responsible_ right now." I added with a taunt in my voice, grinning behind my serious mask. Veneloppe giggled, and then broke off into a coughing fit.

It wasn't one of her casual sputtering hysterics, either, which concerned me. It was wet, hard and constant—her breathing became raspy and forced. Veneloppe, her eyes wide as she struggled to breathe, dropped to her knees and bent over, her coughing resuming. Instantaneously, I drop to my knees as well and pull her onto my lap, rubbing her back carefully. Her colour—from her skin, eyes, cloths and hair—pixels turned a darker shade of green, and the little girl glitched and flickered from existence as she did when I first met her.

"It—It won't stop, Ralph!" she wheezed, fear gleaming clearly in her rich coffee brown eyes. "I'm sc-scared—ack!" I wrapped my arms around her and buried my face into her dull, wet hair.

"I won't let anything happen to you." I whispered into her ear, "Not again." She cleared her throat and nodded quietly into my shoulder, falling limp against me. "… Veneloppe?" I grabbed her arms and pulled away to see her eyes half-open, mouth slightly agape. My eyes widened when her eyelids concealed her eyes and she collapsed against me. I scooped her into my arms, glancing to Felix in panic. "She's knocked out cold. What are we supposed to do?!" Her figure glitched uncontrollably when I squeezed her tightly. Felix, concerned, cocked his head to one side.

"I don't know." He said. "However, if she dies, she'll be regenerated here, so…" Felix shrugged a little and tilted his cap over his cerulean eyes. "I don't think we have much to worry about when it comes to that." With a little more thought to my question, Felix gave a feckless sigh. "Look, it's my job to fix the physical damage, not internal, so it's not like I can smack her with my hammer." He gave a joking smile in an attempt to lighten the moon, but I stared at him blankly.

"Thank you, for summarising that up." I stated flatly. His face turning red, the small character looked away. That's when I realized that I was being too nasty. With a sigh, I lowered my eyes to the ground, and we walked in silence for what seemed like centuries before Felix finally apologized. "No, no." I shook my head. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that." I looked to the _SugarRush's_ sky, noticing a couple of stray green clouds drifting across. "Hey… they kind of look like tornado clouds. Do you think this has anything to do with the virus issue?"

The look in Felix's eyes was dark and ominous. "It has more than to do with that." Without looking directly at me, we continued our walk. I kept glancing at him in confusion, but never did he explain what he meant. Instead, he kept his gaze trained on the ground and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Tell me, Ralph—do you have any idea what _Turbo Time_ was about?" When I didn't respond, he carried on. "There was a lot of bad guys, and one good guy; Turbo. But do you know what those bad guys were?" Again, I didn't respond. "They were people, but sickly, and they slouched around.

They carried diseases, or in what others would refer to them as, zombies. Turbo, being the Good Guy, had he simplest job to do: purify them. And for him, it was a race against the time limit to purify all of them before there was no more time. He loved winning because he'd not only filled in his missing family link, but it gave him... A thrill. Something only he and he alone could understand. It was strange, as he described it, and at first he felt uncomfortable. But then, the more he won, the more he _succumbed_to this feeling." I stared in rapture at Felix as he shuffled a little.

"But then, a brand-spanking new game came along and stole his gamers' affections. It was a racing game, like _SugarRush_, only it revolved around just racing. He found himself consumed by jealousy and hatred, but then he got this brilliant idea: why not _Go Turbo_and join this game? The gamers would love to see heir formerly favourite character in this awesome new game!" Felix rolled his eyes heavily as he narrowed it down to the single main idea. "I don't know about much of what happened next, but... Okay, I'll cut to the chase. Look, the point is, he would purify zombies. Not create them. In that case, I think Veneloppe is wrong on one thing: he did not cause the virus to go flying."

"But how do viruses and zombies share anything in common?" I asked, confused by his logic. Felix shrugged.

"I'm just saying; if there's a purifier, then there's an antivirus in him too. Maybe." uncertain, he cocked his head to one side. A sigh escaped his throat, forlorn and lonesome, like that of an elderly man recalling the days of the old. "It was never truly in his personality to be so selfish; that feeling, it consumed him. It was an unnatural experience. I mean, I'm not judging him from being jealous- it's completely natural. But he let it all go to his head, and when it was too late, the drop became harder than he had realized."

The information in my head clicked together; what he was saying made a lot of sense.

But our walk continued until our feet ached and our stomach's rumbled, and I decided that it was time to camp in the candy cane forest for the night. Felix gathered firewood and I lay Veneloppe down in a pile of cotton-candy leaves, blanketing her with a coverlet made of a candy wrappers. From there, I brushed the hair from her sweating face and then a fact struck me: she was burning hot, sort of like a fever. I thought about ripping off a piece of my shirt and soaking it in cold water, then laying it on her face, and decided to comply with my thoughts.

I returned to our campsite to see the fire cackling and Felix leaned up against a tree, staring into it. "Tough night, huh?" I asked, strolling over and sitting on my knees near him. Felix shrugged, which I noticed was what he'd been doing a lot lately. "What's with the shrugging? I've never seen you like that before."

"That's because I've never been so uncertain." He sighed and rubbed his arms. "Everything seems to happen randomly and without reason, and we're stuck between it all with a sick youngster on our hands." He had a point, but I refused to believe it happened without reason.

"Oh, c'mon. It can't be that bad, could it?"

"More than you know, brother."

Well. So much for my 'cheery' efforts.

Felix rolled his eyes at my weak attempts. "Ah, well, it's not like—" he stared ahead, enthralled and concerned. Then he glanced at me. "Did you see that?"

I stared, enthralled by the horror in his eyes, that I hardly heard a voice hiss, "I'm sure he did, Fix-It." I forced myself to look away from Felix, no matter how terrified I was to see his face again, be it half Cybug or not. My breath fell away into nothing while my eyes felt like they just left their sockets.

There, before us, was a _very_angry-looking Turbo.

"T-Turbo?!" I gasped, staring right at him. A cold smile graced his lips.

"That's my name, don't wear it out…"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: I Know You

"B-but I thought… I thought you were dead!" Felix stammered, eyes wide in shock as he took Turbo in.

"Yes, funny how things work out, hmm?" Turbo sneered, his eyes narrowed into slits as he snarled at the two of us. He glared at me, above both people, his pale yellow eyes boring into my own russet brown. "And you! I told you that I'd get you, didn't I? Well, here we are." He narrowed his eyes. "Final level." My eyes widened drastically as he took a step forward, fists clenched in rage as he approached. I leaned back when he was merely feet away. Felix raised his eyebrows in suspicion as Turbo crossed his arms. "Y'know, I'd kick you, but I've got two little buggars hiding in my shirt." As if on queue, two small dames clambered out and perched on his shoulder, peering at us curiously.

"So… you're not angry?" I asked in concern, watching as he plopped down onto his stomach and sprawled out with an exhausted sigh. At the question, he smirked a tad and shook his head.

"Not much," he admitted. "A little. A little for trying to kill me. Which, in fact," cocking his head to one side, he frowned slightly. "I'm still trying to figure out how that didn't work. And how I survived coca-cola lava, being half a Cybug and all that other crap I went through… in all honesty, I've no idea how I survived any of it." Yeah, it boggled my mind, too. "So…" he stared up at both of us with a crooked grin. "How've you been holding up for the past month?" Instead of answering, we glared at him.

"I've had enough of you." I growled, standing up with my fists balled. Felix looked prepared to do the same thing, with his hammer in hand as he hoisted himself to his feet. Turbo's eyes went from calm to alarmed.

"Ah!" He yelped and bolted upright, "Whoa, fellas—can't we work some peace treaty or whatnot—AH!" he dashed around he fire whilst we chased him. Turbo glanced back at us, with those sour yellow eyes full of fear. "Stop! PLEASE! FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIVES, WILL YOU PLEASE JUST LISTEN TO ME?!" Felix was the first to stop—I continued to pursue him. Hurt, the tiny character—Felix's size—bolted away, clambering up a candy cane tree. I only just made it to his tree in time to hear his faint whisper: "Double-Stripe…"

**BING!**

"Whaaaaa~!" He yelped and flailed as he fell through the air, gasping for breath as he collapsed on my head—I ended up being face-to-face with those pallid yellow eyes. "Uh… eheh…?" nervously, he laughed, while my eyes glared daggers into his own. He flinched and quickly climbed off me, only to be cornered by the tree as I lividly approached, my fists raised. He trembled and leaned against the candy cane, staring up at me with huge, terrified eyes. "I-I…" just as I pressed my hand against his throat, Turbo's eyes somehow went bigger than they were.

"Ralph!" Felix cried. I dropped the whimpering character and turned to glare at my colleague. He was unfazed by my glower and narrowed his eyes. "Don't do it," he warned me. Ignoring him, I turned back to Turbo, who was frozen stiff.

"I've had just about enough of you."

I raised my fist and he winced, then, out of fear, he yelled. "I'M SORRY, OKAY?! I'M SORRY FOR EVERYTHING I'VE DONE, FOR EVERY SELFISH THING I LET HAPPEN, FOR EVERY STUPID THING I LET MYSELF DO! OKAY?! I. AM. SORRY!" Well, he actually said it. Something in my head clicked, and at once, I backed away.

"Good." I said. "That's all I needed to hear." While he stared at me in disbelief, I turned away and walked back to the fire, when a familiar voice groaned.

"What's going on out here?" Veneloppe rolled out of her makeshift bed and threw off the crown at the top of her head. Her green hoody concealed her face, but it clearly wasn't enough, because her eyes flew open in horror at the sight behind me. "W-what!" she gasped, and then coughed out another fit. Turbo glanced at Felix questioningly—and a little concern—before he'd realized what was going on. She, frankly, didn't care and leaned away when he paced forward. Terrified, Veneloppe dove into my lap and shrank in my chest for protection, biting her lip anxiously while she peered over my shoulder.

"What is _he _doing here?" she snarled, a mask to hide the terror in her eyes. Turbo was clearly gobsmacked by her weakened state, because as soon as his eyes were set on her, they never left. "What're _you_ looking at?" Veneloppe sneered at him, and the character averted his pallid yellow eyes. Her tone was hostile that I almost believed that she was more angry than afraid—which, for a fact, was not true. She was just disguising the fear, and at the same time was making Turbo feel bad, which he had every right to be.

He'd patronized her and declined her wishes to be a racer. Because of him, young girls—Taffyta and her little gang of weirdoes—pushed her around, physically and verbally! How could he possibly make amends for _that_? "Look, kid." Turbo bit his lip anxiously and stuck his hands in his pockets. "I…"

"You what, huh?" She spat at him. "You want to push me around again? You want to be pathetic 'King Candy' again? HUH! Well, suck it up, Mr. Snitch, 'cause I don't _want_ to _hear_ it. I don't _want_ to suffer in candy wrappers again. I don't _want_ you to try to destroy my codes again. I don't _want_ to deal with you _ever_ again, so _hit the road!_" she heaved large breaths, her complexion completely drowned in the hue of scarlet red. Now I was positive that she was ticked, and that inside, she hurt a lot.

However, some of the words I found rather stinging for Turbo. I knew the him inside, and I knew that he was going to react in a way that everyone was going to know his thoughts and feelings.

I was correct.

"King Candy?! Are you _serious_?" he snarled, bristling angrily as he took several paces forward. Veneloppe's eyes immediately filtered with fear as his eyes flashed with rage. "How many times have _you_ known the pain of being abandoned?! How many times have _you_ dealt with the fact that your home is gone, that everyone you've ever loved is gone and everyone you knew hated your _guts_?! How many times have _you_ come to love something that was taken from you in an instant?! How many times have _you_ been neglected, hurt, bullied, picked on and verbally injured?!"

His voice had grown silent, tears sparkling in his eyes. Realization glimmered at the edge of his irises. The tears crystallized a little when he shook his head and turned his back on her. "No." he whispered. "You're right. More than right. I have one thing to say… and that's that we've more in common, Veneloppe Von Schweetz, than you'd think."

His feet dragged wearily as he made his way up a candy-cane tree, cursing at the Double-Stripes and continuing his clumsy climb. He'd made it to the top of the tree by the time the moon rose, and his silhouette was clear as water in the crispy night air. One thing I failed to notice, however, were the frustrated tears streaming down Veneloppe's face while she stared at his silhouette with a look of pain. She gave a weak cough and rubbed the water from her eyes, sticking her hands in her pockets while Felix and I sat comfortably by the fire.

The last thing I remember was her sobbing and shaking her head, as though she were having a painful argument with herself, then narrowing her eyes in determination and clambering up the tree that Turbo had. I heard a whisper follow from her small mouth.

"I know."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: the Good and the Bad

When he came to, the first thing he took notice of was the crisp night air and the smell of fresh autumn stretching throughout the twilight sky. The glitch-owls hooted contentedly, fluttering beneath the soft cobalt blanket of the midnight and its stars. His face, concealed by a milky white reflection, showed no emotion exception fear, also consisting of regret and another untitled feeling hovering slightly in his chest. It was fuzzy and warm, like a butterfly landing square on his heart and… nuzzling it?

"**CEEEAAWW!**" Paisley popped her head out of his jacket and let out a loud squawk. Her pitch black eyes reflected the stars and the cool moon, pale and pallid in the callous night. Even she was quivering in cold, curling back into his jacket and snuggling against his belly. Feeling warm inside, Turbo placed a hand where she was curled and rubbed her unconsciously. "Hang in there, buddy." He whispered softly.

He still couldn't wrap his mind around what had occurred. His trance consisted of many things—why he had flipped out, what had been going through his mind when the words fell from his mouth like a rapid waterfall, etc… Why had he let himself do that? It exposed his thoughts, leaving him in a shaky and trembling—not to leave out vulnerable—state. And he did not like that one bit. Now when he climbed down, Veneloppe would be taunting him about how he had no capacity to control his explosive pain.

He hated defeat of any kind, even if it involved beating his rational thoughts. He couldn't begin to imagine the sneering he would be introduced to when he climbed down in the crack of dawn. Ralph, as Turbo knew him, was stay silent alongside Felix. However, it was neither of them he was concerned about- not even CLOSE. It was a certain little girl and how her attitude afflicted those around her. How her negativity could be spread as easily as a frog leaps to a floating leaf in the water.

He gave a small shudder as some unfamiliar feeling crawled up his spine- only to be he sneaky little cockatiel he'd picked up on his journey. "Sweetie!" he exclaimed as he caught a glimpse of her frosty white plumage sticking out from his shirt. "What the heck were you doing in there?" As if replying, Sweetie bobbed her head and gave a low screech. "I guess you were trying to "preserve body heat", eh?" he said teasingly, watching her crawl onto his lap with great weariness and peer down into the darkness below. "Yeah, I don't suggest flying down there with your clipped wings."

He sighed softly. "Ah, if only you knew how I felt right now… first, I destroy my home. Second, I _try_ to destroy a little girl and a former friend… Third… I scream at a little kid who has every right to be angry, and _now_… what _will_ happen to me now…?"

Unbeknownst to Turbo, a small figure grunted as she dragged herself upon his branch, panting quietly, careful not to disturb his speech. Then she curiously stared at the back of his head, all traces of tears erased and crystallized as she scooted forward and positioned herself right behind him. Then she eavesdropped with a grin on her face, one that would openly admit to crookedness, while he spoke to himself.

"I've been miserable for ages. I kept wondering to myself, 'when will this end?' I kept waiting for something to happen, while walking around _SugarRush_, and then _she_ came along.

I didn't mind her at all. She was funny, and admittedly adorable for someone her age. She was joyful and sweet, but was also very feisty if she was required to be. I remember when we first met—she was sitting on a candy cane tree, picking at her hair. Her mother and father were elsewhere and she looked like she was honestly dying of boredom. I tried to speak to her, but she was afraid, and I didn't blame her—who _wouldn't_ not like a freak with yellow eyes and grey skin?

As usual response, she skittered away. It meant nothing to me; that was when the horrible idea came along, to use her power over this game.

I used what I had—cheat codes—to hack into her programming and erase her from everyone's memory. Heck, I even tried to obliterate her programming altogether, but all for naught. She was still the sweet little girl as I knew her, after everything was over. But she was rugged and her attire consisted of only a green hoody and black hair adorned with candy—which I constantly wondered why it didn't get stuck in her hair.

However, what I didn't know was that by destroying her heritage of being royalty, I completely destroyed her parents. I didn't care—I was gaining something for myself; an entire kingdom! I was declared king, and knew I had to get rid of that girl somehow….

"But it never worked—" he was interrupted when Veneloppe laughed in his ear.

"Yeah, 'cuz I'm too cute to destroy!"

"Veneloppe?!" startled, Turbo blushed furiously and stumbled along the branch clumsily. "When did—were you—HOW LONG WERE YOU EVEN THERE?!" Gasping in slight annoyance, but only just managing to mask his mortification, the former 'racer' leaned away from her as the little girl smirked at him.

"About when you started your little speech, Mr. Snitch."

Turbo's pale yellow eyes flashed in anger. "Quit calling me that! It's not my fault you're such a miserable kid!" a gasp escaped his throat, and then tears stung his eyes as he quickly averted his gaze. He hunched over to hide his face. "Ah, but it is." He confessed quietly. "No, in fact… _everything_ is my fault."

"Not the Cybugs." Veneloppe insisted. "You didn't have anything to do with those."

"Well, what do you care?!" He spat back, a little taken aback at his own tone when he burst. Veneloppe flinched visibly and Turbo gave himself a mental smack before biting down hard on his tongue. He couldn't help but notice her lack of speech after he snapped at her like that, and felt like it was the only thing to keep him at bay at a time like this.

A time like this, which was dreadfully similar to his pain inside—the throbbing, constant pain in his heart, as sharp as a stone. A time like this, which reminded him of his home, and his family—the one that had never openly shown their affections toward him, had they felt any at all. A time like this, where you could stare at the sky forever and fall into it through your subconscious mind, becoming one with the twilight blanket as your eyes began to slide shut.

The moment felt so deep that he had failed to notice his own sobbing mingled with the sounds of the night. Giving a small huff, Turbo rubbed his eyes silently and shoved his face into his hands, tears still swimming heavily in his pallid jasmine yellow eyes. Her silence fed his emotional state, or so it felt like it as he tucked himself into an uncomfortable ball with his shoulders hunched slightly.

"My mama says, good judgement comes from bad experiences—and those usually come from bad judgement."

Confused, the small character gazed over at Veneloppe with perplexity in his deep yellow eyes. "Huh?"

"Don't you see?" Veneloppe beamed. "It means that _everyone_ makes mistakes—that everyone has at least _one regret_ to withstand. But it always depends on how you learn from your knowledge and make use of your experience, even if you thought it a good idea at the time." Her eyes softened at his feeble state, before a coughing fit took her over and wore down her throat. Cool shivers travelled up her spine as Goosebumps rose along her arms, criticizing the cool air.

She began to quiver with the cold, teeth chattering as Veneloppe rubbed her arms. Then she began to cough out a fit, face red with effort. To add up to this, Turbo noted her figure glitching frantically as she suffered, experiencing something—guilt?—burning beneath his skin. Or maybe it was something more, like affection towards this little girl. Before he knew it, he had her cocooned in his ashen jacket.

"Here." Turbo generously offered up the coat with a shake of his head. "You need it more than I do."

Her eyes became round with surprise and gratefulness as he gently wrapped it around her attire. He failed to notice the tears in her eyes as she whispered, "You remind me of my Papa." And it was true. She saw so much of her father in Turbo that she had never seen before—maybe it was because this was the first time Veneloppe had seen _him_.

As she clambered down the tree, Turbo could've sworn he felt something set aglow like the ambers of a warm fire grow in his naturally cold heart. Touched by her confession, he smiled to himself and followed in pursuit.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Bitten

"W-wait. I'm coming with you?"

I half-dragged, half-hauled Turbo as he skidded on the tips of his heels, trying to resist the futile. My eyes were narrowed in impatient russet slits as I threw the small character forward angrily and watched as he rose to his feet with great difficulty. Turbo panted and glared up at me with livid sun-kissed eyes, sneering when I pushed past him and purposely shoved him with my shoulder in the process. Felix and Veneloppe uneasily looked on at the situation while walking forth, unwilling to interfere with this affair—and me.

"Why not? _You're_ the one who started this mess." I stated flatly. He glanced up sharply at me with eyes of fury, but managed to bite his own tongue and drag his feet forward unwillingly.

"Says bigfoot." He muttered under his breath.

I cocked an eyebrow. "Sorry, what was that?" smart alec.

"_Nothing_."

"Good." With that, I smacked the back of his helmet—causing him to fall forward into a pile of mud. When he pulled away, gasping for breath, I could feel the muddy face glaring daggers into the back of my head. Felix bit his bottom lip and glanced at Veneloppe, who stared at me in shock. I ignored the both of them, strolling past as if nothing had occurred and I was just having a bad day—which, in a way, I kind of was.

"What's gotten into you, Godzilla?" Veneloppe gasped, covering her mouth while she grabbed my hand and held me back. Her eyes betrayed nothing else but fear, but her mask revealed firmness and stability as she gripped my hand. For a nine year old girl, she was pretty strong, inside and out, and it even made me wonder why I was being so testy anyway.

And the truth was, I had no idea.

"Yeah, Ralph…" Felix chimed. "You're not usually like this—you're more… serene. Has something bothered you?" Keep asking—maybe I'd find the answer. But in the mean time, I could only stare at them with eyes filled with confusion and rage, impatient at my lack of knowledge on who I am.

They say that we're never the same person everyday, that we each have a different trait we show between 24 hours. They say that it's impossible for us to be the exact same person we were being the day before, or the day before that, and that we are a new person with the same personalities. But I begged to differ. We have the same dreams and the same lives, and have the same desires. Veneloppe yearned to become a racer. Did she suddenly wake up and decide that it's hopeless? No. _I_ wanted to be a Good Guy. I didn't achieve it, but did I give up? No!

So why was I moody?

Turbo padded up beside me quietly, and I wondered why he would be so near someone who was clearly showing aggression towards him. That was before he murmured, "I'm sorry." I glanced at him in confusion.

"For what? You didn't do anything—I did." A compassionate frown grew along his complexion.

"I did do something. I did something here," he pointed to his heart. "You can't stand being near someone who was once a friend-turned-enemy. You can't stand knowing that they hurt you in your heart, because they were your brother and they turned against you. Brothers are supposed to stay together—not fall apart. I'm sorry to you, too, Felix. I was a coward—" Turbo gave a brief, mischievous glance at me. "—with glasses. I can't believe that I ever let myself go." I narrowed my eyes, but my heart _did_ stitch up a little.

I'm not saying I forgive him; I mean, you don't just forgive someone over a couple of days for trying to murder you. That would take ages. I could see that Veneloppe was thinking the same thing, a sneer curled on her lips as she shook her head and looked away. "I'm not gonna give in to you, Turbo." I growled. "And I sure as heck don't think Veneloppe will, either." I caught a glimpse of hurt flicker in his pale yellow eyes, but I ignored it and scooped up the young girl by my side, who coughed frantically in response.

Only Felix was the positive one. He smiled graciously and gave a sigh of content. "Welcome back." I personally begged to differ with his lack of caution, but hey, what's a Good Guy to do?

I was completely ready to move onto a different topic and abandon the issue at hand, but I snarled at Turbo when he drew near. Surprised, he stepped back, and fell in behind as we made our way through a thick forest of candy canes and liquorice stumps, taking slow steps as we, bit by bit, edged our way around a river of chocolate milk. Small pebble-like mints floated daintily in the milk like pebbles in water, making it easier to cross, even it the high pace of the stream made us dizzy.

"Ah!" Veneloppe cried in zealous joy. Felix and I exchanged small glances of bewilderment and wonder as she frantically leaped up from my arms and waved her own around in solid excitement. "Do you see it, do you see it?" she asked, squealing happily as she pointed far off to the _SugarRush_ sign. Clearly, we did not see it.

But someone else did.

"The racing track!" Turbo exclaimed. "That means we're near the castle. Maybe the virus lives there?" all three of us glanced at him sharply, and then he grew silent. His voice wavered slightly as he said, "I've had my fair share of the virus, if you must know." I shrugged the suspicion off and scooped up the little grease monkey again. Veneloppe whined, and then gave a series of wheezing coughs, glaring at me as she tried to cease her pathetic sputtering.

As Turbo paced in circles whilst his eyes remained fixed on the racetracks, he was glittering with excitement. "Once a racer, always a racer." Felix smirked a tad, his eyes never leaving the excitable small character. I glanced at him, puzzled.

"But you said that Turbo was someone who purified sick people." I protested, quite sure of what I'd heard earlier.

"Technically, I am—was."

I turned around, astonished at Turbo's exquisite hearing. His big russet brown eyes stared straight at me while he lingered back, his arms crossed in disapproval. "Honestly, Ralph. Ask _me_, not someone who once _knew_ me. I've changed a lot, and so have you." He waved a hand in dismissal. "Anyways, it was _like_ a race. We'd zoom around in race cars, a little thing similar to a gun in hand, and shoot the sick people with a blue light that'd come out of the gun-things. They'd get better. So on, so forth… But if you're wondering, no. I don't know where that virus came from, nor do I've any idea on how it knows _me_." We couldn't have known it at the time, but Turbo was lying expertly through his teeth.

The small racer kicked his foot into the dirt, eyes lowered as he stuck his hands in his pocket. "So, in conclusion, that's how I know how to race." Felix crossed his arms in concern.

"Ah… But, where did this thing _come_ from?" he inquired, rubbing his arms as the dawn gave way to chilly afternoon air. I just thanked our lucky stars that it was the weekend, and the arcade was closed on both Saturdays and Sundays, or else we'd have our game unplugged for sure! Turbo apparently had the same thought in mind as he attempted to answer Fix-It's question.

He fiddled anxiously with his polished crimson-and-marble white helmet as he glanced around, biting his lip fearfully. While he did so, Turbo answered nonchalantly. I noticed that both times he answered anything about the virus, he refused to look any of us directly in the eyes. "As I said, I really don't know. I doubt that it can just find its way into our game systems—there'd have to be a very, very complex reason." I was suspicious of his behaviour, but said nothing, because he had a lot to worry about.

Veneloppe didn't buy it, and clearly she'd had enough of his ramblings. She leaped out of my arms and strolling towards him furiously, a finger pointing accusingly at his face as he raised his arms in innocence. "You're a liar!" she shouted, her face just inches from his own. Turbo was dreadfully afraid, as he just seemed to let his knees buckle from beneath him. "I saw you, you sour piece of candy! You were talking to that stupid virus. You told him to come after me!"

Her voice became raspy as she coughed and pulled herself away, careful not to sputter on his face. Then she hardened and deadpanned, "Why do you think I'm so sick? That _thing_ pounced on me and bit me here!" Veneloppe gestured to her throbbing right arm, her russet brown eyes narrowed as she pulled up her sleeve to reveal very large teeth marks. Turbo, gobsmacked and horrified at the mark, reached out with timid fingers to gently touch it, but Veneloppe smacked his hand and jumped away immediately.

Her eyes glimmered with defiance, but anyone could see now that she was absolutely terrified of Turbo. Shaking as she coughed out another series of ill sputterings, Veneloppe pointed a trembling finger towards him and whispered, "Stay away from me." Her voice was no longer contamination with venom as tears stung her eyes, and she turned away, quivering with dread.

She began to sob and angrily wiped the tears away with her right hand. Her dull raven black hair hung in her face while she brushed that away, too. But every time she fought back the waterworks, the harder they pushed to come out. From behind her, a hand reached down and gripped her left arm gently. She yanked it away, furiously gritting her teeth as she cried, "Stop it! It hurts!" Turbo quickly kneeled down and put both his hands on her shoulders, soothingly spinning her around to greet his face. And I swear, when Veneloppe stared into his eyes, there was anything but anger in her own.

She flinched away, wincing from his hands, but he refused to let loose. Instead, he cupped her face securely and whispered, "Do you trust me?" I could tell from the look on her face that she was startled by the sudden question, but slowly relaxed. Turbo carried on, lifting her arm carefully for him to see, and this time, Veneloppe only bit her lip and gasped at the pain. Her arms stiffened drastically when he softly rested his hand on her wound, causing her to yelp in pain and freeze like ice. Turbo smiled softly and smoothed the hair from her face, murmuring pacifying words. "Chillax. That's all I need you to do for me." Searching her eyes, he added, "_Do_ you trust me?"

Veneloppe, to his disappointment, whispered, "I don't know. Should I?"

"That's up to you, kid." Turbo replied, "But do me a favour and just… hold still." His hand still enveloping the wound, he closed his eyes and uttered a few words. His hand lit up like the forth of July with a glimmering cerulean light, the luminosity seeping into the bite marks and—to all of our amazement—sealing the injury and healing it. For a second, Veneloppe was blanketed by this light, and her green-tinted pixels immediately transformed back to their natural color. Her sickly form shot back to a healthy state, and her eyes filled with enough energy to fuel a race car.

Astonished, we all stood there like statues—except Turbo, who stood up and stalked away dismissively. I began to call out to him, and Veneloppe too yearned to thank him for his work, but Turbo interrupted. "Whatever. Let's go, fellas." Something about his aura said that he wasn't too happy about something, but I decided to leave it. I mean, personal thoughts are better left inside of you, to avoid subsequent conflict. At least, when it comes to Turbo.

Veneloppe tugged anxiously on my hand as we walked after him, Felix attempting to squeeze out a conversation from the worn-out racer, only to widen his eyes in shock as Turbo murmured something under his breath. The little girl by my side bit her lip and glanced up at me fearfully. "Is something wrong with him, Ralph?" I shook my head in confusion. I really had no idea, but from the way Felix was now intensely whispering to him, the situation had to be dire.

Turbo slumped over in exhaustion, his eyes drooping in utter fatigue. Something sickly came off his in waves, causing the hairs at the back of my neck to stand on end.

Moments later, Felix dropped by my side and hissed in my ear (or at least, from his height, he tried; I bent down to help). "Ralph! You know what he said about the healing-guns and whatnot?" I nodded—his voice turned grave. "Okay… apparently, the only cure is someone's generosity to share their own life force. The guns transmit their health and life force to someone else, and they loose a bit of it, leaving them tired. But get this: at the end of the game, the characters' are regenerated in life-and-health wise. But…." I swallowed hard for what came next.

"His game is out of order… and it can't give his life force _back_."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Mentos, Coke, and Cybugs

"What?" Veneloppe cried, releasing my hand to cover her mouth. "But... But that's so dumb! Can't he just regenerate himself? Th-that... I..." the waterworks started up again as she looked to her feet. "If I knew that was going to happen," she whispered, "I wouldn't have let him heal me." Felix stared at her pitifully, his cerulean eyes soft with sympathy. He gently rubbed her back.

"But he didn't want you to be sick." He explained lightly, a smile gracing his lips as he caught her in a nuggie and brushed his knuckles across her head playfully. "And, I think he was trying to prove a point." Veneloppe stared at him incredulously.

"What could he possibly prove by risking his own life for that?" She exclaimed dubiously, her thick eyebrows rising in confusion as she sought to let the information sink in. Felix chuckled and released her.

"You were accusing him of making you sick, Veneloppe. He was trying to say, in his own way, that if he wanted you destroyed, he'd have done it himself already." He laughed softly. "And you just so happened to be trusty with him, might I add." He teased, tweaking her nose before she groaned and buried her face into her hands.

"Oh, shut up." She grumbled through her fingers, peeking out at him with glaring russet brown eyes. I laughed to myself and exchanged a glance of mild amusement with my colleague. Then, she pulled her hands away and let her eyes wander to the sleepy state of the weary racer just feet away. Concern filtered her eyes as she sighed forlornly. "But he didn't have to prove it so... riskily..." she protested quietly, looking back at Felix with pitiful eyes. "Isn't there something we can do?"

Felix strolled to her side and patted her back comfortingly with a white-gloved hand. His creamy skin seemed too pale as he expressed his commiseration. "Only rest and no roughhousing will help him." He and I both knew that it wouldn't make him fare any better, but that was what Turbo seemed to be craving right now, from the looks of it... Come to think of it, he seemed to have stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to see us. Any of us would have stated to him that the fatigue really got to him-I've never seen him so... exhausted.

His eyes hung drowsily while he rubbed them. Turbo forced a crooked smile at us, and it kind of creeped me out a little. He looked so sickly and like that 8-bit, stare-y version seen from the perspective of the game players. Veneloppe hid behind me, squeezing my hand, and I could bet that the hairs on the back of her neck rose in alarm. Frowning slightly, he curled his lips back into the beginnings of a snarl and whipped around angrily. "So, I help someone out, and now I look like this-do you need to rub it in?"

I'm sure we all felt guilt then, because I know I did. I mean, I was judged by so many people because of the way I looked (naturally, I looked like a Bad Guy), until Veneloppe decided to befriend me. Felix dug his toes into the dirt and pursed his lips worriedly. "Turbo..." he began.

The racer interrupted, waving his hand. "Don't even start. I know what you three were thinking." His voice cracked ever so slightly with hurt and exhaustion. "If you want, I'll leave. All I am is dead meat in this kind of situation, anyway..." he half-turned towards us again, sceptical. "So... I'll go, if that's what you guys really want-!"

When the unexpected happened, my jaw dropped. Turbo's eyes flew open. Heck, even Felix smiled sadly, and I could've sworn I caught a glimpse of tears stinging his eyes the moment it happened.

If you haven't guessed already, Veneloppe released my hand in a momentum.

But that's not all.

Turbo's eyes were as wide as two full moons as he stared down. There was no expression in his eyes, no surprised flinging of his arms, nothing.

Not even a single breath.

The whole minute lasted forever, like it was stuck in time-like a glitch shifted in the time zone. Turbo was finally showing some emotion-but it was... such a sweet reaction, let's say.

Veneloppe buried her face into his stomach-it was pity she was so tiny-with her small arms wrapped around him, clinging to him like a burr. "Sorry." She mumbled, her baby-like voice muffled with desperation. She tilted her head into his chest, face pressed into his tummy as she squeezed her eyes shut. All eyes were on her, and I think she knew that, but I think she was scared of Turbo-of what he would do.

I wondered that too, as he continuously stared at her in bewilderment. Then he smirked. Then he giggled a little-then the racer burst out... laughing?! "Pahahahhah!" he snorted, reaching a hand to wipe a tear from his eyes as Turbo ruffled her hair with the other. "Geez, kid, I knew you were a little soft on the inside-but man, I didn't think you would show it!" I began to chuckle as well, as her face lit up in a blush red color.

She threw her arms in the air and stormed away. "**I AM NOT SOFT**!" She roared, crossing her arms angrily and glaring at him from afar. "Get your facts straight! President Veneloppe Von Schweetz isn't a softie!" we continued to cackle away, her crimson expression reddening into a cherry tint. "Stop it!"

"Why'd you hug me?" Turbo taunted in reply. She stomped her foot into the dirt.

"**_I DON'T WANT YOU TO LEAVE BECAUSE OF MY DUMBNESS!_**" Well, that sure shut us up. She panted, clearly exhausted by the stress of her rage, and moaned. Veneloppe reached a small hand and rubbed her head, her big brown eyes flicking from me to Felix, then to Turbo, obviously upset. "I didn't mean to look at you like that! It was scary, but I..." she stopped talking and looked to her feet. "I was dumb, and... I didn't... wasn't thinking."

"Hey, hey, hey-you can't stop fear." Turbo insisted gently, guilt showing in every way possible. Veneloppe looked up at him when he added humorously, "Come here." She tentatively retraced her steps until she was now gawking up at Turbo, who allowed a frivolous smirk to play his lips.

Suddenly, Turbo lurched forward with his arms out wide, snatched her under her armpits and twirled her in the air, before pulling to a slow and propping her on his shoulders. "Feel better?" he smiled.

"Much indeed." Veneloppe used her most formal tone possibly, sitting with her lags encircling each of his shoulders and wrapped around his neck. "Just don't drop Miss President, 'kay? She's delicate." Turbo chuckled as we moved on, and I was touched by his fatherly treatment.

"I'm sure you are, yer Highnie." He teased, bouncing lightly to make her spring on his shoulders. Veneloppe yelped and flicked his helmet with her fingers.

"Careful, Mr. Candy-Man-whaaaAAAaaah!" She'd slipped dramatically and conked her forehead against the thickness of his headgear. Turbo, however, was more bewildered by something else.

"Candy-Man?!" he exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up like he'd just witnessed a terrible mistake.

Veneloppe groaned and rubbed her head. "Yeah... get it? Cuz, you were, you know, 'King Candy'...?"

I smiled as the two began to argue, but it was a playful manner, as though Turbo had just discovered Veneloppe eating his favourite kind of food. Without him. I heard giggling by my side, and turned to see Felix holding in the largest fit of laughter that had ever been held. I snickered alongside him when I caught a glimpse of Veneloppe jamming her fists into the sides of Turbo's helmet, causing a startled shout, then a random bird dropping onto his helmet.

"Paisley?! Where have you been?" Turbo shouted, quickly snatching her off his head and stroking the soft feathers along her spine. The young starling, in reply, squawked loud in his ear. The racer with pale skin chuckled. "I missed you, too." This small critter, I'd never seen before. The creature was tiny; the size of his hand, and it was decorated with dull russet plumage. But if one were to look hard enough, they'd caught a glimpse of gorgeous black feathers shining with a hidden cerulean colour sprouting amongst her belly plumes.

"Fancy bird ya got there." Veneloppe stated, eyeing the thing with suspicious eyes. Paisley hopped onto his helmet, becoming face-to-face to the little girl, and squawked her loudest-sending the raven-haired child wheeling. "Geez! That thing is _loud!"_ she cried, her arms flailing as she struggled to regain her balance. Then she glared angrily at the innocent critter, which was now preening herself to give the radiant look of saintliness.

I had to admit, the whole set up was kinda funny, but it didn't last long.

Turbo froze in his tracks, Veneloppe perked up, horrified, and I allowed my jaw to slack. It hung wide open as I gawked at the sight ahead. Not again!

"Cybug!" Turbo cried. The only thought in my head was, gosh, he must be more terrified than all of us combined. After all, he'd been through a lot with those things. Heck, he'd become one-and he was absolutely horrified of becoming one again. He quickly lifted the kid off his shoulders and propped her up on his hip protectively. "Take a bite out of her an' you're dead meat!" he threatened to the bug-if the situation weren't so serious, I would have laughed at the fact that the small man was standing up to something five times his size.

The Cybug, with its unnatural shape and largeness sizing up on him, flexed its claws. It looked much like a locust, only it was the colour of a Caribbean and flew like a housefly. Veneloppe trembled hard in his grip, eyes wide-it took only a moment before my instincts kicked in, and I strode forward with my giant fists raised. "I'm with you all the way." I told Turbo firmly, who smiled in sleepy gratefulness.

It took a swing at me with those giant claws-I swerved out of the way and returned the attack, slugging it in the chest. Paisley, snapped out of her preening, screamed at the monster and flew at it with talons raised. For such a tiny bird, it was loud and scary when it needed to be, and it packed a lot of bite. She fluttered around his face and began smacking it with her beak. It wasn't much, but it was a distraction, so I seized the moment and leaped onto its back.

The Cybug, frustrated in its lack of focus, struggled to maintain balance as it fell with a thud on the ground. The starling landed on my shoulder and squawked with pride, and I couldn't hold back a chuckle. "A gloating one, are you? Well, you sure saved the day." Pinning the bug with one hand, I reached with the other to scratch her head lightly.

"What are you doing on that thing?"

All eyes went to the south, opposite of where we came, to see Calhoun making her way down a slope, heavy gun in hand. She has the closest features to a human being-ruffled dirty-blond hair, piercing cerulean eyes, strong, lithe figure, her attire consisting of a black suit-but man, she was as tough as nails. Felix's eyes lit up like two suns.

"Calhoun!" he smiled and bounced over to her. They were soul mates; he brought the cheeriness out of her, and she could convince him to be serious. Once in a while. She shook her head at him and pointed her gun towards the Cybug.

"No time for greetings, Fix-It. I've been looking for that thing everywhere-" she cocked an eyebrow at me, "-only to see you smothering it."

I smiled innocently. "Hey, it takes one to beat one." Turbo snickered a little.

"Yeah, and it takes a grease monkey to know a grease monkey." He said, and then punched Veneloppe affectionately in the shoulder. "And I think this grease monkey's a little frightened." The little girl shot him an indignant glare of her rich brown eyes.

"Am not!" she yelled. Turbo smirked.

"Are too.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"That's enough, kids. Uncle Barney here's gonna lead you back to my headquarters." Calhoun gave a heavy roll of her eyes and jerked a thumb in my direction. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"'Uncle Barney'?"

She huffed at me, cocking her head to one side. "You know, the creepy, oversized purple dinosaur?" I stared at her blankly-then it hit me.

"Ooh." I smiled. "But, why are we going back to your headquarters? Don't you know about the virus?" She snarled at me, her cerulean eyes in slits.

"Yes, I know about that stupid virus." She snapped, bristling furiously. "I'm not an idiot. You'd also know that I'd have a plan in mind, but it won't work without any of you in it... The brainless virus opened a portal from _SugarRush_ into _Hero's Duty_-a Cybug escaped..." Calhoun blinked once, adjusted her pixie haircut, and pointed towards the bug I sat on. "As a matter of fact, nice job on that." I flushed with pride.

"I didn't have too much of a choice," I stated modestly to my former general. Turbo rolled his eyes at the genuine tone in my voice.

"Yes, you did." He sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "You could've let me handle it..."

"But you're in no state to fight." Veneloppe interjected protectively, yanking on his arm-causing him to topple over. "See? You can't even stand a little tug." She helped him to his feet once again, all the while glancing at Calhoun as the woman gazed wearily at the older racer.

"Aren't you the troublemaker who started the fuss with this kid's glitching and whatnot?"

Turbo's face turned a cherry bright red colour, pallid yellow eyes wide with a blank expression as he gawked at her, his mouth slightly agape. "I-I-I-I... W-w-we-ell, I-I-I..." he stumbled along his words, attempting to straighten himself out, when the general strode forward and thrust a punch into his jaw, knocking him back. Felix was startled.

"Calhoun! Why would you do that?!" He yelped, dashing to the fallen character's side. Turbo groaned and rubbed his cheek, blinking his eyes open to see a blurry image of the woman standing over him. I kinda felt bad for him-but he did deserve it... I slipped off the Cybug, which flew erratically back in the direction Calhoun came, and bolted to my colleague's side.

"Ugh..." Turbo hauled himself to his feet with the help of Felix and I, and stared unsteadily at Calhoun. "Boy, you sure pack a punch. You know, for a girl." I winced inwardly as the lithe female slammed her fist into his cheek again, causing him to bite his tongue. Turbo glitched a little at the impact, steadying himself by Felix's support. He lowered his eyes and stared down instead.

"Ugh." She snarled at him in disgust, shoving the front of her gun at him. "All I'd better say is, if you cause that kind of shitake in my game, you'll be getting what you deserve." There was no doubt this time that there was a glimpse of fear in his eyes as she dragged him along. Felix gave a helpless shrug to me, his eyes wide when he stared after his wife.

"Long day at work?" he suggested. Veneloppe shook her head.

"Long day with mentos, coke and _Cybugs..."_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: Realizing the Truth

"_So_ _how'd it go? Did they leave with Calhoun?_" Sweetie asked casually, watching as Paisley's flight glided to a slow, then fluttered onto a candy cane tree. The starling was puffing out her chest in pride as she flaunted her flight feathers.

"_Yeah, they did. I helped beat up one of those monster things from Hero's Duty._" Paisley explained, stretching her wings to the extent of their limit and yawned. "_And man, was it u-gl-ee!_" Sweetie chuckled and flexed her frosty plumaged wings, nodding in approval.

"_That's good. We can't have those things flying around for the day's worth._" She stated flatly. "_I mean, that thing is part of an 'existential crisis', isn't it? What was it that began Hero's Duty…? 'On a distant planet, an experiment went horribly wrong…' They _must've_ been a crisis. Why else would those things fly around and eat everything in sight?"_ Sweetie shook her head scornfully. "_It reminds me of that time when we were game jumping. Geez, they're like cats chasing mice when it comes to us. What, do they think that we look appetizing, or they just chase things that fly like them? Puuuuhhhh._"

"_And_ _then that time where you were going to the bathroom and one snuck up on you…_" Paisley trailed off instantaneously, seeing the death glare her cockatiel companion was shooting her. The starling ruffled her feathers and cringed in embarrassment. "_Well, it was _kinda_ funny…_"

"_Says the stander-by!_" Sweetie squawked, her chocolate brown eyes narrowed. "_If you're the victim, then it's as scary as heck. But hey, you've never been in that kind of position, so you're the _lucky one_._" She spat the last two words with venom. Paisley's head shot up sharply, letting out an angry screech.

"_'Lucky'?_" the starling female forced a bitter laugh. "_Oh, sure, it's _totally_ lucky to fall on a Double-Stripe branch, then land on Turbo's shoulder while you—_" she paused. "_—Mother of monkey milk. You're smart._" Sweetie smirked and shook her head in exaggeration.

"_That's whatcha get for messing with a cockatiel._"

Paisley chirruped and smiled mischievously. "_Aw, c'mere, you!_" The russet plumage starling threw herself upon the larger dame and pressed her head into Sweetie's chest—a sign of friendly affection. The younger bird then glanced up through snowy white feathers. "_Umm… We should get going. They're probably miles away!_"

"_Then it's a good thing that birds are fast flyers._" Sweetie gently shook Paisley away and took flight, the starling in close pursue.

* * *

"_Turbo…_"

His mouth agape, the indicated character drooled in his sleep.

"_Turbo… wake up…_"

This time, the summoning had reached his mind, but the unconscious character groaned and rolled over. "Five more minutes…"

"_No, Turbo… wake up _now_._"

Turbo, restless towards the voice, curled into a ball and swatted the air in irritation. "Veneloppe, I said five more _minutes_." An invisible finger jammed into his side with complete frustration, causing the victim to shoot up and glower around with a livid look on his face. "Veneloppe, where are you at, you rascal?" His eyes widened when he discovered that, not only was she nowhere in sight, but he was in a place that looked vaguely familiar. "Where am I? I _must_ be dreaming." Clearly. The place was unlike any he had seen. The gameworld was occupied with a racetrack, that of which he lay on rather stupidly. The track was lit with lights like florescent Tron luminosity. The world around him was dark, except for these black lights.

He rolled over onto his stomach, pulling himself from the hard cement, and studied the area. The racetrack went for miles down the road, with no apparent end in sight. His helmet was glowing. His clothes were lit. The "T" sign and red streak patterns adorning his attire were the cause of this, and in all familiarity, Turbo felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise in horror. "_T-Turbo Time_," he whispered, feeling a cool feeling crawl up his spine.

"_Yes_."

Startled, the small character glanced behind him with jasmine yellow eyes, which were also aglow.

A girl, her attire consisting of a navy blue cloak, concealing her face, faced him. Her figure was heavenly and light, the only natural glow of this dark, dark place. And, to his shock, slight transparency took over her form. "_Hello, Turbo._" She whispered, slowly advancing on him. "_Long time, no see._"

Out of all the rather idiotic reactions, he was confused. "I'm sorry. Who are you?" The girl chuckled a little. She could be no older than Veneloppe herself, but perhaps by two or three years she definitely could be.

With his question, she slowly pulled the hood off her face, revealing snowy white skin and brilliant sapphire eyes. She was definitely eleven. Freckles adorned her nose and cheeks, soft pink lips pursed with nervousness as the young child stared at him anxiously. "_Hey… don't I ring a bell?_" she pressed, closing the distance between them. Disappointed when the man shook his head, she sighed. "_Oh, it doesn't matter. I wanted you to see something._" Then the child gazed around her, watching as two race cars zoomed like lightning by, unfazed. Turbo was awed. "_But maybe it's better we get off the road, first…_"

He could hardly agree with her in terms of staring around, but in terms of safety, she held a valid point. Protesting slightly as she dragged him along, Turbo gazed around as she led him into a small neighbourhood powered by advanced electricity. A small house made him stiffen with fear, studying how it was lined up against the rest of the abandoned ghost-town area… A small child pranced around the house, chasing her little brother and laughing happily, in spite the grime darkness of the world around them.

"… Natalie." Turbo stated quietly, pointing a stiff finger to the girl. But he could not recognize the boy.

Clearly, this ghost girl could see that, because she laughed softly and explained: "_That little boy, that's you._" Now it made sense. The soft blond hair, the golden eyes, the "normal" coloured skin- that was him. Well, before the helmet was stuck to his head like superglue, and he became as grey as Death himself. Turbo nodded vacantly, a smile brimming in the corners of his lips.

"I remember this…" smiled the character. "Natalie was the only one I had. The others just… ignored me, I guess. But…" Turbo's light faded when he closed his eyes wearily. "Then she got sick. She got a virus that, day by day, ate at her coding. One night, to be her last, I curled up to her. But in the morning, she was no longer there. I became sour. Sour, bitter, disdainful. Everyone thought it was my fault she died—or maybe not, but it sure as heck felt like it.

They pushed me, they shoved me—somehow, I ended up in the Game Central Station. I had run away. Felix and Ralph found me there, and I had to admit that they were pretty insistent on being my friend." Biting his lip anxiously when his tongue lisp stooped into his speech, the ashen-skinned character smiled at the small child beside him, who snickered a little before he went on. "We did become close. They pushed me to proving that I could become a hero. Under their influence, I felt like nothing could stop me." His eyes enlarged when Turbo looked to his feet. A bit of fear was revealed. "But I don't know who I am anymore. I see so much of my big sister in Veneloppe, and she sees a lot of her father in me. Sometimes she takes my hand like I _am_ her father. And, when I saw her sick with the virus, and the way it ate at her like it did my sister, I just knew that I needed to help her. It was like…" he sighed deeply and murmured. "I dunno… like she was my daughter. Sometimes it feels that way."

"_It_ _seems like you've learned a lot. Like you know what it is to be a Good Guy._" His companion replied.

"I don't even know if I'm a Hero anymore, and I don't think I care, either." He retorted, his pale yellow eyes staring into the dirt. The freckled young girl beside him, touched by his story, began to sadly smile as he added, "Sometimes, I get angry, or even sad…"

"_But to think…_" she beamed mischievously. "_Who is that sadness and anger _for?" Turbo, shocked at what she was implying, shot his head up to look at her with wide eyes. His face flushed a crimson red colour. "_See_?" the nameless child laughed. "_You're the most pure person I've ever known. You care so much for a little girl, who, subconsciously, loves you like you're her Daddy. And you, Turbo, subconsciously return that affection. You've healed her, protected her, loved her and played with her. What more can you do to prove that you love her like your own?_"

He remained quiet, bringing his eyes to the dirt between his feet. After a moment of silence, his muteness dissolved and he willingly glanced back up at the nameless companion. "Yeah. You're right. But I don't think Veneloppe will admit to that. You wouldn't believe half the stuff she would do to prove you wrong. She'll prank me to no end, ignore me, etc…" he rolled his eyes. "But I think that's why I love her. She's a good kid, but she's always up to no good. But to _me_… I see an orphan looking for attention."

"_But… you know, Turbo, after this virus thing is over…_" the girl looked to her feet, worriedly. Then she shook her head with a dismissive smile. "_Oh, never mind. Just wait till we get there. But here's a tip: B.A.N.N.E.R. feeds off of death. So his enemy is life._" Okay, that made no sense to him. But in order to not look stupid, he memorized the words.

When he'd attempted to ask her what her meaning was to be, a breeze swarmed around him, sucking his capability to hear anything away. Her voice echoed above this desperate wind. "_Good luck, Turbo_."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: Until the Morrow

"Wait! No! I have to—**NOOO**—"

"**—OOOOO!**" he screamed, his eyes flashing open, wild and afraid. We all crouched over him with eyes of fear and concern, and he could only really see our silhouettes, but our irises were as aglow as the stars above him. He gasped for breath, shooting up in a wild panic, then feeling my arms shove him back down. "Let go of me!" Turbo yelped, his spine pressing against the hard stone ground.

"Shh!" someone hissed into his ear. "You'll wake the Cybugs, honey."

"N-Natalie…?"

"No, honey. My name is Deanna. I'm a character from _Fix it Felix Junior_." Oh well. It was worth asking. Turbo groaned and rolled over dizzily.

"Where am I?"

Deanna promptly smoothed a stray blond hair from his face. "We're in Hero's Duty. Now hush, or else Cybugs will find us." Her whisper, however firm it was, was also soft and soothing. "Honey, I think you were having a nightmare. You woke us up something awful. You were crying in your sleep, too, so…" Turbo stared at her. Had he really been crying?

"I dreamed about the virus. And my sister, and she was sick—she died when I woke up in the morning-dream. Everyone hated my guts. And a girl, she told me that B.A.N.—I mean, the virus—fed off of death or something…" he held back a shiver of dread, and stared at the stars in the sky. "Oh my code. I must've been _bawling_. My sister meant everything to me." Deanna's eyes were nothing but pity as he stumbled to sit up. "And I gotta know—who shoved me down?"

"Ralph." A bunch of strangers sighed in unison—except for me. Turbo laughed softly.

"Naturally."

"Hey, I happened to know that you were going to spaz if I didn't." I growled in reply. He smirked at me sarcastically.

"Says the one who thinks that salmon is pink." His tongue lisp somehow poked my nerves. "When in Rome…"

"_That wasn't salmon!_" I retorted quietly. "Geez. Get back to sleep, okay? It's enough that Veneloppe had bad dreams too—"

"Veneloppe?" Turbo repeated, eyes wide.

"Yeah."

He frowned. "Take me to her."

I cocked an eyebrow in suspicion. The kid was hiding behind me, in a slight, paralyzed state of shock. The poor thing had enough to worry about right now. Besides, what did he even want with the kid? She had nothing to do with this kind of situation.

"Well," I started vigilantly, "there's actually no need to. She's right here." I gestured to behind me, to where the little, unrecognizable child hid from sight, eyes wide in terror as she reminisced her nightmares. Turbo gazed at her with round, innocent eyes, before gesturing for Veneloppe to scoot towards him. She complied, inching her way to Turbo, till she stood just feet away from him with a nervous look in her eyes.

That's when he opened his arms wide, a smile imprinted on his mouth, big eyes comforting and trustworthy. I knew that Veneloppe had been looking for this. She'd seen it in me, and she was now viewing it for him. Who'd have thought that someone that had once tried to destroy your codes could be so comforting? She made a small whimper noise in her throat and ran into his arms. "Turbo!" she cried, shoving her face into his neck. He willingly returned the embrace.

"Hush, my little glitch." he purred. She looked up at him with wide, round eyes full of wonder and joy. She felt the bonds—the loose connection of her coding—be linked. The loose connection he had left her was now linked into him.

She was officially adopted.

If anyone were to look at them now, their hearts would break. Turbo's eyes were soft with timid affection. He wrapped his arms tightly around the kid and propped her on his lap, her head tucked into his chest. I caught a glimpse of something gleaming in his eyes. Knowing that the eyes were the "window" to the soul, I looked into them. They read this:

_I'm ready. I was scared to before, but I'm okay. You're here in my arms, and that's what matters to me the most. You're a child, and I'm an adult, and I was terrified of screwing up._

_But now, I'm ready. _

_To be a Daddy._

If anyone else saw that too, I'm sure they would've smiled and known that both their paths were going to be brighter from there on. I know that I did, when I saw Turbo gently turn on his side and cradle her in his arms. Veneloppe snuggled into his chest and closed her eyes for a brief moment. She looked like a kitten snuggling into its parent—which wasn't far from the truth.

I knew that she was in good hands, now. She had love and affection. I smiled and gestured for the others to follow, and we made our way back to our sleeping areas.

Turbo felt his drooping eyes begin to slide shut as he stroked her cheek soothingly, keeping her close and tight, where he could run his fingers through her jet black hair. The poor baby girl. He'd done everything to make her hate him—and it took more than a day to get her to at least glance at Turbo. Veneloppe's face outlined with the look of a little one, even if she was nine years old. It just reminded him of the life he almost screwed up. The baby girl snuggled her face deeper into his chest, where it was warm, and pressed her cheek against his heart.

And for the first time, Turbo almost felt it beat… like a real human's. At that moment he loved her so tremendously that he felt his code would burst.

He curled himself around Veneloppe and held her tighter. _I'll love you forever… I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be. _Turbo hymned softly, feeling the voice of Natalie speak through that very lullaby. She'd sung it to him every night, up to the day she came down with a virus. Sure, he might've been a bad singer (tongue lisp and all), but the affection was what counted the most. That was what Natalie had said…

He closed his eyes, breathing in light and regularly. He'd always remember her, and not how she died, but what effect her life had on his own. He gently stroked the glistening raven hair that belonged to the child cuddling into him, rubbing her cheek in the process. It was hard to register what he had done to deserve Veneloppe's anger, and then her affection. Turbo's thought that she'd hated his guts. Perhaps it was the wrong interpretation, but that's what it had felt like.

Then he opened his eyes again, his eyes trailing into the night sky, where the stars hung over him like small lamps in the glistening navy blanket of twilight. He thought, for a moment, that everything was normal. He was back at home, the King Candy stuff never happened (as he wished it didn't—for goodness' sake, would you like to hop around, giggling senselessly? It was kind of hard _not_ to laugh at yourself without ruining the act.)

Then his mind wandered to when he and Veneloppe were both on the tracks. He couldn't believe that he'd tried to hit her with a spare part from his car. Turbo's could still see the terror in her eyes, and his stomach immediately turned to a hunk of ice. How nuts had he been? He could still remember looking down at himself, realizing that he was no longer in the attire of King Candy, and had transformed into his old self.

When she had touched his face.

His cheeks warmed slightly at the thought. She had been trying to defend herself, and shoved him away. She grappled his face and attempted to push him. He remembered laughing and glaring back at Veneloppe with narrowed eyes. "Yeah, it's me. The greatest racer alive—Turbo-tastic!" But he had sneered, "End of the line, glitch!" then had her car in the direction of two splitting roads.

The hunk of ice in his stomach began to bubble. He felt sick.

And how sick he had been—a baby girl! He'd scared the living dung out of her. He tried to destroy her coding.

"Turbo?" his attention was brought back to the child. The sweet, caring, trembling child, who was looking up at him with wide, sweet brown eyes as she took him in with shock. His sickly yellow eyes were wide and his skin was pale, the shade of frosty white. His pupils were small and bags hung under his eyes, as though he'd not gotten sleep for days. "Y-you look like you're terrified." She stammered, eyes round with slight fear. "You look like you did on the track." So she had been thinking about that, too.

He slowly turned his pale, sickly yellow eyes to gaze at her. "I don't know what to tell you, hon—I mean, Veneloppe." Wow. 'Honey' felt so strange on his tongue, now that he'd almost said it. Her eyes flashed over with fresh affection when the black haired child registered his near-mistake, and she snuggled deeper against his heart. Touched, he relaxed and returned the affectionate fondle, his arm reaching up to stroke her hair. His eyes were still wide, though, as he trembled. He didn't deserve a sweet little girl like this one. Ralph did, but he certainly did not.

He'd done too many things. Terrible things. And now he was scared, knowing that his actions would reflect badly on her. Turbo couldn't be her parent. No, it was too dangerous. With Banner on the loose, seeking revenge, and his secrets he'd kept from the rest of the group… She could get hurt again. And he would never forgive himself. Like any other parent, Turbo was terrified of seeing his baby get hurt.

This, as Ralph would say, would make him perfect for the job.

He'd had the maternal instincts. But he was too weak. Too weak to protect her. There wasn't exactly a moment where he was stronger than his enemy. He'd always been feeble and more of a victim than a slayer. But that, in a way, was also his strength—he looked like a lost puppy, but Turbo practically ran circles around his opponents when he raced. Veneloppe was faster than him, and he couldn't be any prouder—but he was scared that jealously would consume him again. That strange feeling he'd consulted with Felix about when he'd first started his role of a racer.

And he couldn't even think about hurting her again. The look in her eyes when she first saw him—the _real_ him—was enough to say that Turbo looked like a savage monster. And that wasn't far from the truth. He'd screwed up a game, messed with her coding, tried to eliminate her, and destroyed her parents… His eyes were constantly wild and unnatural, and a strange smile always seemed to occupy his mouth. And no, he wasn't referring to the crookedness of his lips.

His heart felt as though it was racing, but it's not like he actually had one. Nobody did. They were video game characters—why would they have emotions and feelings in general? One would beg to differ with his logic, objecting that since they were made by feeling creatures, then they also shared their own fracture of soft emotions of love and the harsh senses of hatred. He knew that they were right in some way. He felt tremendous affection for Veneloppe Von Schweetz, and that wasn't about to change anytime soon.

Veneloppe's head rose, her eyes soft and drowsy when she looked up at him. She was squinting hard, looking him in the eyes intensely, and taking in his weak and self-conscious gestures. Then, of all places, she stared at the right side of his chest, to his heart. A smile played her lips as her tiny hand grasped his own and brought it to his heart, snuggling her head into his shoulder. "Listen." She yawned, her eyes clouded with sleep. "No, that's not right… Feel. Feel your chest. I felt something beat, and the sound almost put me to sleep."

His eyes flew open, startled at her discovery. On queue, the feeling quickened and kept its speed. Veneloppe smiled sleepily and placed her hand on his own, where it was positioned. "A heart, Daddy." The little child whispered, falling limp in his cradling arms and just listening to the sound. Turbo's eyes were wide as he stared at her, a small smile working its way into his mouth. _Daddy_… Oh, he really did like the sound of that. "I didn't know we had hearts."

Oh, gosh… was this how a mother felt when laying her eyes on her child for the first time?

"I… I didn't know, either." He choked out, eyes dry—but they stung. "It wasn't until you pointed it out…" Veneloppe stared up at him, concerned.

"Are you okay? You're stumbling and lisping like ca-razy, stinkbrain." Ah. This was the little girl he knew. His little girl.

He smirked a little. "Zombie-breath."

Veneloppe's eyes flashed. "Grease monkey."

"Bitter candy."

"Sour milk."

"Bird-brain."

"Hey, birds are really smart!" the raven-haired girl protested. Turbo grinned and rolled his eyes, thinking up a solution.

"Um… how 'bout no-brain?" he suggested. Veneloppe frowned in disapproval.

"I've got a brain. But you don't."

"Hey, I have a brain!"

"Oh yeah? Prove it!"

"Fine! 4 X 3 = 12. Good enough?"

She shook her head.

"Um… Well, dolphins are the smartest animals in the world."

The little girl stared at him. "What're dolphins?" Turbo mentally smacked himself.

"Forget it." He sighed and reached a hand over the kid to draw her closer. "It's late… we should sleep…" his eyes drooped slightly when Veneloppe nodded and snuggled back into her original position, her cheek pressed against his beating, live heart. He felt a smile grace his lips when he gently enveloped her in his arms. He'd vaguely remembered when Ralph told him about why the Nicelanders and a couple of other random characters were temporarily residing in _Hero's Duty_. The virus had taken over the game… Like it did _SugarRush_… It had many other victims in mind, hence the other characters in hiding. His eyes were sliding shut into a peaceful sleep.

What felt like five minutes later, but was really two hours, he woke again to Veneloppe's panicking breaths. "_No, no, noooo!_" she whimpered in her sleep, curling into a tight, tucked up ball in his arms. "_Nooo…_"

Turbo stared at her with tired, pallid eyes, smoothing the stray hair from her eyes. "Veneloppe, wake up… it's just a little dream, sweetie." His heart rate sped up a little at what he'd just said. On queue, little Veneloppe blinked open her eyes and gasped for breath, her eyes wild and afraid, like they were before. He snatched her into a strong embrace, sitting up, rocking from side to side pacifyingly. "Shh, shhhh…" he whispered. "Shhh, baby girl… tell me what's wrong…" she sobbed and hugged him as hard as her tiny arms would let her.

"You…" how could she explain it? He was gone in a flash of navy blue light. He told her that he was sorry. Sorry for what? Then he was gone. Just gone. And she never saw him again. "Daddy, you were gone!" she cried, and pressed her face into his chest. Turbo promptly rested his head on her own, rubbing her back soothingly. "I don't want you to leave… Please don't leave… I can't handle being hurt again…" At once, he knew that she was thinking about her Mother and Father, and how they'd just suddenly vanished one day, and she was at the bottom of the dumps.

Turbo, his eyes wide and staring ahead vaguely, shook his head softly. "No, Veneloppe. I'm not going anywhere. I'll never leave you on your own." He meant every word—she meant that much to him.

The sweet little glitch stared up at him with round eyes. "Promise?" she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. Turbo laid her on the grass next to him and took off his jacket, cocooning her with it. He then smoothed a stray raven hair from her eyes and nodded.

"Promise." He whispered. "Until the morrow, little one." He slumped down and fell asleep with her in his arms, this time an ensured snooze.

Never did he know that the promise would eventually be broken.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve: Level One

**BOOM!**

"AH, AH, NOOO! I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY!"

Turbo dashed downhill, screaming his lungs out as Calhoun was on his tail in hot pursuit, yelling out cusses he'd preferred not to hear. "I'M SORRY!" Moral of the chapter? Never give him a gun. I stared at the two as they ran in circles and swoops and twists. This amused me, because the previous hour, Calhoun was teaching us to use guns if Cybugs ever got in the way… and let's just say that it didn't end very well for him.

He'd blown a hole in the headquarters, and the look on his face was hysterical. Sergeant's expression blew up on the spot, and the next thing you know… well, here we are.

"**QUIT RUNNING, NUMBSKULL! GET BACK HERE AND QUIT BEING A COWARD!**" Tamara Calhoun screamed, sprinting, quickly closing the short distance between them. It was clear that, in spite of Turbo's speed and accuracy when he drove a race car, he was nothing like that when it came to "manual" options. He was panting already, but devastation to live drove him forward.

Finally, after what seemed like ages of running, Calhoun grasped the back of his collar and yanked him back. Turbo choked for breath when he suddenly became short of air, but writhed for escape amid her iron grip. "**AHHH**!" he cried in alarm, squirming from her desperately. "I told you that I was sorry, you spaz! Let go!" Calhoun lifted him up, making him look like a puppy being lifted by the scruff and currently scolded. His eyes were round with fear. "Look," he panted out of misery, "I told you I was sorry… It wasn't on purpose… please, for goodness' sake, don't kill me." I wasn't about to let her, anyway. I was on my guard.

Her eyes softened drastically. "Pipsqueak, all I wanted to say was that it was a mistake. You ran off before I could say that." Wow. Between the both of us (we spoke about it days later), we sure got the wrong impression. "What made you think that I would kill you for blowing a hole in the headquarters? Felix fixed it up in no time." She added with a grin, lowering him to ground level. Turbo stared at her with a sheepish smile.

"It'd probably have something to do with the fact that you were advancing on me when I dropped the darn gun." He admitted, yanking off his helmet and rubbing the back of his head. My jaw dropped a little when I saw the striking blond hair that was ruffled and fell over his eyes. He was the stereotypical blond, or so I thought, before Turbo glanced my way through narrowed eyes. "Just because I'm a blondie doesn't make me stupid." He snapped, furrowing his eyebrows. I sometimes thought he was some sort of mind-reader, from the way he could tell what I was about to say out loud. I smiled impishly.

"I wasn't gonna say that…"

Yes, you were."

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes," Calhoun and Turbo both sighed simultaneously, "you _were_."

I guess that they'd both received the same stereotype, both being light-haired.

Calhoun shook her head. "Ugh. We really have no time for stupid arguments like this. Our action plan starts today, and we're supposed to be training. We attack tonight. Good thing it's a Sunday…" I couldn't agree more. I was anxious to think about what we were going to do if all of this started on a Monday or a Tuesday. "Alright, ladies. Anyone know what the plan is?"

"Negatory." Turbo said, sticking out his tongue goofily and saluting. I shook my head in response.

Tamara smiled and blinked her dull cerulean eyes. "Well, let's head back and find out, then." I thought she would've known—but then I realized that she was a Sergeant, and not a High Commander, so she was in a lower rank. They higher ranks would be deciding the action.

As she turned and dashed uphill, Turbo stared after her, and then glanced at me with round, yellow eyes. "Are her hormones usually like that?" he choked, rubbing his neck anxiously. I laughed.

"Honestly, Turbo… You don't know that half of it when it comes to Tamara." I chuckled. His laugh, however, was less relaxed and more based on terror.

"She almost killed me…"

"But she wouldn't have."

"But she _could_ have…!"

I sighed, not knowing what I could say. He was absolutely terrified for his life, which made me think that he was the same old selfish Turbo, up till I heard him faintly whisper, "Vanellope can't bear being hurt again. She told me so." I was surprised that he just managed to suppress his strong tongue lisp and spoke through a quiet murmur. "And I can't hurt her. Not again."

"You wouldn't, now, would you?" I asked quietly, "She means more to you than the Central Station and all the game worlds combined." Defiantly, Turbo narrowed his eyes.

"No, she means more than the entire human world. And human race."

It was at that moment that I realized that he'd risk anything to protect his little girl. Anything. I gave a small, burly grin and nodded slowly, looking back to the headquarters. "I see." I whispered. "And that's what's best for her. Thank you." More loudly, to ease this deadening silence, I exclaimed, "Welp, best we get on our way if we're going to figure out what to do about this virus." I naturally tugged on my overalls and climbed the hill, his feet dragging from behind me.

I sensed a wave of embarrassment wash over the former racer when we dropped by the Center room, where all the soldiers stayed to recuperate from possible Cybug attacks. However, it was bustling with activity today, murmurs rippling through the crowd. Turbo's eyes were wide and frantic as he searched for a particular facade: the baby-face nine year old little girl. "Where's my kid?" he whispered, his eyes wide whilst he scanned the area. On queue, Vanellope jumped out from behind Felix and ran into her Pappy's arms, digging her face into his stomach.

"Too many people…" she sighed, feeling Turbo's arms envelope her. "Too small o' space… Gotta get out…" He realized, with a regretful flashback, that him reprogramming her had gotten her accustomed to living alone, in a wide open space (although, he could never really figure out where she lived—must've been a glitch place…). Gently, Turbo scooped her into his arms, where Vanellope hid her face into the curve of his chest. I stood there, giving a brief smile—I'd never seen this shy, needy side of her. From what I've seen, the kid's got it all figured out on her own—and she didn't need anyone but herself. That was what she convinced me.

But this side, this side where she's willing to cuddle into someone who's sworn to protect her, I had to grin. Vanellope, she'd developed from the harsh little girl I knew her and into a chrysalis protected by a milkweed plant. And I think that I like the fact that my former, trustworthy friend loves her like a father to child. I'd seen it in his eyes—the fierce love and the risks he was willing to take in order to save her from all harm. The look of a snarling tiger in the face of danger, defending its weak cubs from a cheetah, or, perhaps, a lion. One would think that love was a gentle, sweet emotion, nothing to involve the snarling, furious sensations at all.

Yet, when the one you love most is in danger, you feel it bubbling up inside of you. You feeling that burning protectiveness searing through your veins, spreading like wildfire, until you openly attack the one that threatened your kid.

So, that said, Turbo would go past any extent to save his kid. Vanellope was like a cockroach—hard to squash, but to a certain point, it can be done. But that wouldn't stop him.

Vanellope yawned into his upper body and tucked herself into a tight ball, her eyes flickering briefly over his shoulder, peering at the High Commander approaching. He was flanked by many others of high ranks. Respectfully, the military stood and saluted, alongside Calhoun, whose eyes glinted with admiration, and as I looked closer, appreciation. I wondered what that was for.

I stepped to the side, shoulder-to-shoulder with her, and Turbo, not knowing what to do with the child in his arms, awkwardly flushed as the High Commander pulled to a slow at his side. The racer shrank visibly, and I could see his trembling shoulders and wide, terrified pallid eyes. I heard a small chuckle from Tamara, who whispered into my ear, "Watch this. You're going to love it!" she was so amused, it didn't cease to amaze me. I stared ahead as his pale face turned an ashy white, and his grip on the kid tightened drastically.

The High Commander slapped him on his back and grinned. "Now that's what I call a man!" he chuckled. Tamara burst out laughing, then quickly hushed herself and urged me not to do the same. I was holding it back as hard as I could. Calhoun's cerulean eyes glazed over in affection as he added to Turbo, glancing at the blond Sergeant with a warm smile, "I was a once a father too, you know." Turbo's eyes were wide as he searched for the resemblance between the two soldiers, and nodded quietly to himself, relaxing a tad bit.

Vanellope whispered something into Turbo's ear, staring anxiously at the large, buff man. The racer, in reply, touched his large forehead to her own and stared comfortingly into her big russet eyes. She whispered again, and he spoke soothingly, his ashen skin returning to its natural colour. He then stepped back out of the attention range and pinched her cheek teasingly, talking to her with a calm, knowledgeable voice that would have suggested that he was reassuring her.

Soft adoring whispers echoed amongst the women soldiers (they then glared at their spouses meaningfully). I shook my head. This world was too deleterious to have play time with their children. But women make no sense—so why would they understand? Calhoun was still chuckling at her father's remark, who was waltzing down the isle of readied military. I didn't like the deadening seriousness (because let's admit it—there is never a time in Fix it Felix Junior that it was so silent!)

"Alright, soldiers. Stand your ground." He stated dryly, deep voice thick with commands. His eyes were a solid brown, hair a charcoal black and the colour of the night sky. His skin was dark, a shade of deep russet, and he had this bold kind of look to him hat made me shrink a little at his voice. "You all know the conflict regarding the virus." Murmurs of agreement echoed through the military forces. "And though we do not attain information of its origins—" at this, Turbo's eyes were round and shamed, and looked away in discomfort. Suspicion crawled underneath my skin when he began fidgeting.

Vanellope pulled away and peered at him curiously. I bet that she was wondering about all the twitching and squirming was about, as was I, and she moved her head into his view. "Whatcha thinking, Turbo?" she asked, smiling impishly as she tugged at the strands of blond hair sent askew on his face. Turbo's pallid yellow eyes snapped back into reality and he boldly shook his hair from her petite fingers. There was no emotion in his face, no affection in his eyes as he returned the glance to her round, brown eyes.

"Nothing." He stated flatly. "Nothing at all." Hurt at the cool, frosty tone of his voice, the little girl shrank and leaned against his heart, resting her head atop his shoulders. Her own, frail limbs were trembling slightly as she struggled to register the guilt she had seen in his eyes. Could it have meant something important? Clearly, no one else saw the look of devastation in her eyes when Vanellope sighed forlornly and dug her face into his shoulder.

Or so I thought—Felix's eyes were trained on nothing but the former conflict. His blue eyes were round and shaped with suspicion and confusion, and as Commander what's-his-face rambled on, we all kind of had a trio stare down. Turbo glared and shifted his arms across Vanellope's shoulders—with a look that undoubtedly stated, _'what're you lookin' at?'_. Felix was biting his lip and crossing his arms. I stared with an expression of angst.

'_Apologize,_' I signalled with my hands.

Turbo cocked an eyebrow and flounced his hands around, gesturing. '_For what?_' He was asking silently.

'_For being so firm with her,_' Felix mouthed in reply, displeased. Turbo sighed out loud and nodded obediently, his eyes surrendering when he gently drew Vanellope away from his shoulder, foreheads touching lightly when he smiled weakly and whispered to her. The little raven haired girl smiled zealously and her eyes enlarged, happiness clearly showing in her eyes.

She promptly threw her arms around the former racer's neck and started smiling uncontrollably, tears glistening in her eyes, on the verge of breaking out. She tilted her head downwards to hide herself. Turbo brushed his hands across her back and gave her a firm embrace. "S'okay." He murmured to her. "Nothing's going to happen. I told you so, remember?" She nodded into his shoulder, wiping her eyes stubbornly. "I promised, and that's what matters the most."

**000000**

After that important discussion, Calhoun was practically sizzling with excitement. I'd never seen her so scatter-brained—usually, she's the tough exterior with an occasional smile. But this—this was so mind blowing! Felix had quite the influence on her.

Turbo and Vanellope, alongside the Nicelanders and I, were not so eager. We'd never had to fight. What would we know about war? The kid's face was pale and frighteningly white, her eyes small and hair ruffled. I almost brought myself to comfort her, but Turbo beat me to it, gently wiping her searing hot face with a cloth. He was still exhausted from the healing session he'd given her, but beyond that weak exterior was a snarling tiger, young and vibrant. His grey face was hardened to prove that point.

"You know the drill." He was saying. "Stay close—"

"—and out of sight. I know, Dad." Vanellope rolled her eyes heavily, but anyone could see that she was as weak as a thing sheet of paper. Turbo gave a grim smile, but bitterly decided not to protest. He was anxious about this whole virus-war/fight, and bringing her into it was what made him crumble like a dead leaf. He'd found it unfair that everyone was required to come, and I might've preferred her to stay as well, but I had to remind Turbo that the virus could shift to any game at any time, and anyone alone here could be in grave danger.

He reluctantly complied with my theory and took Vanellope under his wing protectively. I understood his caution and decided that it was best to keep them in sight when the action took place.

We'd begun our walk to the Game Central Station when Vanellope anxiously squeezed Turbo's hand. "I'm scared, Daddy." She whimpered, tugging his hand pleadingly. Her eyes were squinting with tears and she was shaking quite visibly. The racer, clothed with white attire, paused and lifted the small little midget-monkey into his arms, where she lay back against him and chewed her lip fearfully. "Oh, gosh…" she said this five times, voice slowly increasing its waver. "T-Turbo…" she whispered. He glanced at her with saddened pallid eyes.

"I'm here." The small character soothed, stroking her cheek with a thumb until she relaxed into the gesture. "I'm always here." I knew that he'd promised to look after her, but what if something went wrong?

My thoughts were interrupted when Tamara called, "Get into formation, ladies. We're about to hijack the Central Train." Her voice was bitter sarcastic, but I didn't put the blame on her. There was enough conflict going around, and another dilemma, she'd explode. Vanellope stiffened in Turbo's arms, shrinking visibly, fiddling anxiously with the crown that sat daintily on her head. A small squeal of nervousness escaped her throat as the diminutive man carried her forward.

The entire trip through the Gameplug felt like a blur to her. She remembered looking up into reassuring golden eyes, shivering with cold fear and almost, just almost, falling asleep in his cradling arms. She remembered feeling something cocoon her, keeping her tepid and comfortable amongst the cool air of the plug tunnels. She remembered closing her eyes and snuggling into his arms, hair askew when the wind funnelled through.

But now, as she stood before her world—her home—and flanked by soldiers and family, Vanellope realized that she was way in over her head. Her small hand took a familiar ashen one, and her face began to warm up in sickly fear. Then, in determination, she looked up at her Pappy, eyes narrowed. Turbo smiled confidently and gave his daughter's hand a small squeeze. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Vanellope felt her eyes brim with angery tears and strength of mind. "Let's finish this, Daddy."

LEVEL ONE.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen: I'll Tell You When We Get There…

She was still quivering as they made their way through the steady darkness. Vanellope breathed in quickly and sharply, rich brown eyes darting out to the thick blackness of her home—or rather, what was left of it. Her hands were clammy and cold and her jaw trembled slightly when Turbo's illuminated sallow eyes glanced down at her. "Hush, honey. Everything's going to be all right." But alas, she knew he didn't know the future's plans for them.

The thick, lubricious smell polluted the candy-coated world, and she found herself choking for the once sweet air. Her lungs cried out for fresh oxygen to suck. Vanellope removed a stray raven hair from her russet eyes and opened her mouth, avoiding the reek of the oily air. But now she could _taste_ it. In revolt, the little girl spat on the ground and squeezed Turbo's hand. She felt hot and stuffy in the leaking blackness. She felt trapped. She felt afraid.

She must've been absent-mindedly wringing his hand, for Turbo paused and kneeled down before her with eyes of sorrow and of calmness. Vanellope found herself drowning in his eyes—they were so deep, so very thick with forlorn emotions—and then she instantaneously felt something itch under her pale skin. Something similar to doubt. The little girl opened her mouth to speak, but an ashen finger gently pressed against it. "Vanellope…" he trailed off, not knowing how to continue without swallowing the lump forming in his throat. Turbo somehow found the strength to continue.

"… As soon as we find the virus, you're going to… see some things. Feel it. Hear it." By this time, his hand had moved to her shoulder, and Vanellope could just make out its trembling features. His face had turned an ashen white. "And I need you to know that they're not real. They're trying to tempt you, to ensnare you into their luring trap. Like the obstacles on the racetracks." She knew very well of the short cuts which mischievously led to dead ends or dangerous roads. "It'll be different for each of us, but we'll all be experiencing the same thing: fear."

His voice trembled slightly, but Turbo forced himself to continue, for her sake. "The virus… he feeds off of his victims. Off of their fear or their…" his eyes widened a little, revealing slight dread. "… Their _lives_. He feeds off of the satisfactory. B-but… oh, Vanellope…" he cupped her crimson face with two hands, looking her in the eyes. "Please, no matter what, do not let him get to you… He'll absorb the adrenaline from your fear, and you'll be stripped of your energy… of your pixels."

Vanellope was shaking with terror, her round, big eyes wide and frightened. Her face was a pale white and clouded a tint of green. "B-but I'm so scared… Wh-what if something goes wrong…?" she whimpered, falling to her weak knees. Turbo's knees buckled as well and he caught her in a deep embrace. Promptly, the girl tipped her head into the curve of his neck, her breath shaking and uneven. "I can't do it…"

People were passing them by, swerving out of their path. They were holding up traffic. The two racers held the embrace for a moment, daughter beginning to sob. "You promised. You promised everything would be okay." Vanellope cried and buried her face into his shoulder. "But you don't know that… You don't know…" snivelling, she hid amongst the soft leather layers of his white racer attire.

"Hey, hey," promptly, the older pulled away and reached a hand to push a stray black hair from her eyes. His droopy pale bronze were exhausted and sickly, but anyone could see that beyond that was the energy of a young child. "I may not know what the future holds for us, but I'll make sure of something… I'll make sure _you're_ okay." He whispered, a hand on her cheek. "You'll be fine." Vanellope attempted to hide her fear and felt the rays of determination simmer up inside of her, like she did when she first entered. But then she'd realized that there was something wrong, here… besides the fact that the place was deserted and she could see nothing but darkness.

"But you said that we'd _both_ be fine…" she whimpered as he stood again and carried her with one hand under her legs, the other around her shoulder. She was so tiny compared to him, even if he _was_ a diminutive man. Vanellope could only listen to his solemn silence, and could take no more, "What about your promise?" she blurted, her eyes dancing with flames of anger. Yet, beyond the exterior of livid fury, there were heartbroken tears. "You said! You said you wouldn't leave."

Turbo could only gaze down at her with eyes of pain. "I don't know what's going to happen, baby." He said quietly. "Maybe we _will_ all be okay. I'm just concerned over what an old acquaintance told me…" Vanellope's ears perked up in intense curiosity when he raved on, "Her name was Toyota… Toyota Zoom. An odd girl, she was. Very sickly. Very weak. But beyond that, she was a strong, free spirited little girl." With a warm smile to his daughter, the racer added, "Much like you." A warm feeling spread from her chest to everywhere in her body.

"And… what'd she tell ya?" Vanellope wanted to know. "I mean, was this the girl from your dream?"

"Yeah. Yeah, she was." He seemed troubled over the manner, as though he'd never quite been in a state of affair such as this one. "She said… that the virus… its weakness was life. What the heck is that supposed to mean, anyway?" Turbo shook his head. "She said it fed off of death. But how can that be if he feeds off of fear?" A shiver crawled down her little spine, and Vanellope found herself snuggling deeper into his chest. Turbo affectionately tucked his head to her shoulder, a hand pressing against the back of her head in response. "We'll be okay," he soothed softly, "we'll be okay."

And he kept whispering, kept pacifying her fears, throughout the entire walk to the fort.

* * *

Ralph

We'd walked along the racetracks, starting from the finish to the start, being surrounded by deserted rows of supporting stands and fences to show the limits. I saw a small creep go down Turbo's spine as he shivered, clearly not wanting to recall the days of the old, those of which lingered not only in the past; his rage of revenge still threatened to haunt him in the light of day.

Turbo bit his lip and strode forward, Vanellope surprisingly dozing in his arms. Now, of all times, she was cuddling up into him? I'd never thought I'd see that.

An unlikely pair. I didn't expect her to openly accept his fatherly affections, seeing as she was too much of a harsh exterior, but he opened her up to a side I've never seen. Like he just discovered a bonus level. Upon my lingering gaze, Turbo glanced at me, pointed to Vanellope with an affectionate grin, and then chuckled a little. I gave a thumbs up and laughed myself. Turbo seemed so occupied with the little thing in his arms, even poking her cheek mischievously when she shifted in his holding limbs. "Shhht." He beamed softly at her sleepy face. "You look like a little angel when you sleep, you know that?" he affectionately ran a thumb across her cheek. "Just like an angel."

I snickered a little, wanting to sarcastically call, "Yeah, but it's a trap!" I thought it over and shook my head haughtily. I didn't want to ruin the moment. It was sweeter to watch than to wreck, y'know? I grinned, feeling my heart burn as I watched him. He was so tender towards her, as though she were a newborn baby. I suppose that she kind of looked like one when she slept—which makes me wonder. People say that others look younger when they're sleeping; obviously because they're more relaxed and at ease.

Then I thought about Turbo. How the poor guy had to deal with his mourning pain, knowing that he'd destroyed the lives of many and now he was a father to one of them. I guess that maybe he felt like he was doing the right thing—paying back those poor, devastated codes. But of course, he also felt his tender love was visible, so she wasn't 'just a way' to repay the others. She meant a lot to him, more than I'll ever know.

Was it even possible for a machine to care for that much? I mean… I've never seen such _love_.

Then it snapped my thoughts into place. I gasped in shock, holding a colossal hand over my mouth.

I'd realized…

He'd never received this love before…

And now, he was making sure he didn't rebuff her affections.

My eyes were swelling with tears. I know, it's ridiculous for a man my size to _cry,_ of all things, but it's true. That's what happened. They only puffed with waterworks because I saw a pattern in his behaviour, none of which I'd ever paid any attention to.

First, abandoned at home, his sister the only one loving him. Then, his sister passes on, he's abandoned again. He takes over a game where the gamers keep him going, then we discover his secrets, and he's abandoned again. Upon redeeming himself, he saw that Vanellope had become sick with the virus… as was his sibling.

I was rubbing my eyes when I came to, Turbo staring at me incredulously. "What's up, Godzilla?" I shook my head, rebuffing his concern. The small man pursed his mouth.

Then, in an attempt to make me grin, Turbo leaped up (with an insane jumping skill, like Felix—it's a wonder where those two got it) and yelled into my ear, "TURBO-TASTIC!" It cracked a smile on my face, just like my brother-from-another-mother had planned.

Of course, his cry backfired when Vanellope blinked open her eyes when he'd landed on the ground again. "Thanks a lot, Pops. I got a nightmare." She grumbled and turned over in his arms, snuggling her face into his chest. Although her sentence was a cheap shot at a joke, Turbo's eyes widened, arms stiffening in shock. I felt the pits of my stomach bubble with empathy. His bronze eyes were round and lost—he'd kept moving forward, as prompt as a robot, but anyone could see that he was lost in a torrent of thoughts.

I just wished that Vanellope could see it, too.

"What in the name of Jiminy is that?" Felix asked dubiously, his cerulean eyes wide when he stared up. I glanced around and noticed the once-stacked stands were now toppled over and destroyed. We were standing at the base of the starting line—I caught a glimpse of tears in Turbo's pollen eyes, before he forced them away, shaking his head.

As it turned out, Felix was gesturing to the giant pot beside the stand where Vanellope would stand proudly. The latter rolled over in the older racer's arms and whined about the fuss, before blinking the sleep from her brilliant brown eyes and staring around in bewilderment. "What the—the starting line! Wow, we're here already? Hey, look—the screen is showing something."

She was correct. The gigantic screen for the racer's roster was glitching and flickering. The monitor was showing words, one by one, but it looked as though, beyond the display, something were controlling it. A deep, monotonous voice grumbled through the speakers, and as I watched, I think we all felt a cold shiver travel down our spines.

Then, the monitor roster spat out the words like bitter candy. "_Welcome all, welcome to the new Banner's Challenge Roster! One gold coin to penetrate_." I stared up at the glimmering screen, puzzled. A gold coin? I didn't have one of those. And who was Banner? Turbo placed Vanellope on the ground, his eyes darkening grimly. The monitor babbled on, but our eyes were all truly focused on him.

He reached into his pocket, hand enveloping a small trinket, and pulled it out again. Even in the shadowy darkness, I could see its majestic glint. Vanellope blinked and thoughtfully reached into her hoodie (she'd snatched the crown from her head earlier) to yank out a gleaming chrome coin, a reward for winning a race.

Promptly, the former chucked his coin onto the pedestal, which bounced the object into the pot. Vanellope's coin followed. I looked to my pocket, reluctantly eyeing my Hero's Duty medal, and then chucked it as well. I watched as it bounced and rolled into the tub, the sky above it shining a pale green. Felix reached into his shirt pocket and clutched a small medal, and Calhoun ripped an honour off her neck—so, both rolled into the golden pot.

The monitor gave a loud, cheerful announcement.

"_Our contestants are:_

_Turbo Speed_

_Vanellope Von Speed_

_Wreck it Ralph_

_Fix It Felix Junior_

_Tamora Calhoun_

_To ensue, please proceed to the Candy Kingdom. Banner will wait with each of your challenges._"

As soon as we heard the first two contestant names, our eyes fell upon Turbo and Vanellope, who stared at each other with the most zealous joy that I've ever seen in my thirty years of existing. The little girl began to sob a little, wiping her eyes happily, scuttling to his arms. Turbo was equally as pleased, kneeling and enveloping her in his arms.

The only one who acted as if nothing happened was Calhoun, who casually commented, "Well. Never knew your last name was Speed, pipsqueak." Turbo laughed through tears and cupped his official daughter's face tenderly. Vanellope gave a happy giggle and closed her eyes, relaxingly nodding, adjusting to her forename. I took a peek at the roster again, a smile finding its way to my mouth as I took in her legitimate last name. The game had declared him her father. The coding had stitched itself to him. Although he was not an actual character and would surely turn to codes if he were to die, the system still recognized him.

The display roster continued, unaware of the scene before it. "_Limited players only. Please proceed to the kingdom._" Then I'd realized that by this time, Banner _is_ the Virus. So what was he up to, sending only a couple of the many soldiers we'd taken?

Turbo's face was nothing but a snarl and two glowing sandy eyes. "He's going to separate us, one by one, till we're all apart. Then he strikes. I can feel it in my code." I had to agree… I'd only visited the Candy Kingdom once or twice (I couldn't stop laughing at the pathetic name and the girly colours, which soon caught on King Sourpuss's nerves). But even with that fact, I knew that there were many rooms, probably labelled with each of our names. We'd enter, not knowing what to expect.

"I think it's time. No more delays, people." Calhoun said softly, and it was the first time I'd seen her so gentle. I think, when seeing everyone small and staring at the screen, it made her realize that we'd never had to fight for ourselves. "It's time to put an end to this, once and for all." She saluted the High Commander, which nodded in approval, a glint of concern flashing in his eyes. Then Tamora gestured for us to follow as she stuck her gun into her pocket and walked towards the building.

**00000**

"We're here." Calhoun's gruff sneer awoke me from my fearful thoughts. The friggin' fort was adorned with candy minds, though eaten at as if by deadly parasites. The sky above it, and the castle only, was a pale, olive green. Clouds circled the top. Somehow, I thought it must've been a trick of the light or a glitch, but the candy structure seemed… taller. Larger. There was no top of it, as the eyes could not see—the transformed building now stretched into the heavens. The shades and coloured pixels were darker and more… ominous.

"There you go, Ralph." Turbo's grave voice echoed from behind me. "It ain't pink anymore." A small whimper escaped Vanellope's throat—I caught her squeezing Turbo's hand harder than I could wreck any building. His painful expression proved it.

"Yep…" I mumbled quietly. "No salmon."

Calhoun stared ahead with the eyes of a lioness preparing to kill her prey. "The numbskull better not do any fancy tricks, or I'll pull the trigger on him…" she sighed and patted her large shotgun.

"It's not like it'd have any effect." Turbo stated blankly. "He's paranormal. No actual coding… just pixels. He gets bigger because he feeds off of fear, so when we go in, try to keep your cool, okay, everyone?" We all gave small sighs—mostly because it was hopeless. Emotions were something you just couldn't control—except for Tamora. She was trained to keep her fear under organization.

Quietly, Turbo turned to Vanellope. "Vanellope… I need to warn you…" his expression forlorn, all of us cocked our heads to one side. He looked down with pollen eyes, shamefully. "When we get to the top, I'm going to tell you to do something for me." He forced a small, orangey-toothed grin. "A very simple thing. Really, the simplest thing in the world."

Sighing resignedly, Turbo clapped his hands together and looked up at the towering structure. "Well then, shall we? There's only one way to go… and that's up."

With that, he took a breath and yanked open the castle doors, the darkness swallowing him whole.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen: My Past, Their Present, Your Future

This was way worse than walking in the lubricious darkness of _Sugar Rush_. Way worse. Turbo bit his lip anxiously—he couldn't see a darn thing! Curse these weak sandy eyes. He gave a snort of contempt and traced the walls down the tunnel of no light. His fingers danced along the bumps and mishaps of the barrier, feeling wallpaper paved into the divider. Something rammed into the heel of his foot, and Turbo whipped around to glare into the darkness. "Ralph, get the shuck off my foot!"

"What are you talking about? I'm right beside you." The defendant snapped back. Vanellope's sheepish voice called from behind.

"Sorry, Pa…"

He sighed. "It's fine… C'mere, it's better if everyone stays close." Vanellope promptly scampered to his side, her small fingers easily lacing into his own. Turbo grinned weakly in the shadows. He'd had a bad feeling about this whole situation. It didn't feel right the lead themselves into Banner's mousetrap, but what else could they do? And as much as he'd preferred to leave Vanellope safe and snuggled back in Calhoun's bed while they walked through, he knew that even if he tried to persuade her, the girl would outsmart Turbo—again.

"What's that?" Ralph called, his brown eyes squinting in the darkness. It was a door, but it had a label, as though it belonged to someone. They neared the portal, Turbo cocking his head forward to read it out loud.

"It says, 'Our First Contestant—" he broke off, a glint of fear passing through his sandy eyes. He stumbled back and fell on his rear, taking an unfortunate Vanellope down with him. However, he turned into the unfortunate one when she landed heavily on his lap. Wincing, Turbo wrapped his arms around the small, dark haired girl and felt her snuggling her head into the curve of his neck, chin atop his shoulder, looking ahead amid round eyes glistening with tears. _No,_ he begged inwardly, face crumpling, _I wanted to go together. To protect her… unlike I couldn't before._ "—Turbo…"

"**_NO!_**" Vanellope shrieked and clung to him like a burr. His hands seemed to agree, never feeling the desire to pull away. The pits of his stomach began to bubble… suddenly, Turbo did not feel good about this. Banner would want to have his delectable revenge, enjoying every moment when the diminutive character were to cry out in pain or terror. The mere thought of it sent his bubbly stomach into volcano mode.

"Ugghh…" his vision became blurry. What happened in the future depended on its past, first—and right now, things weren't looking so good for him. Vanellope softened her grip on Turbo and shivered in his gray arms instead. Turbo pursed his mouth, breathing cool and rapid as the colour drained from his face. Wreck it Ralph crouched beside him comfortingly, a colossal hand resting on the former enemy's shoulder.

"You alright, buddy?" the brunette asked softly, offering a hand to help the weak character up. Turbo complied and stumbled with Vanellope curled in one arm. He hobbled over to the door, his hand just touching the knob.

"N-no." he confessed feebly, pressing another hand against his mouth. "I—I don't feel so good…" He hardly noticed Vanellope in his arms when the door opened for him—on its own—and he hesitantly took a few steps in. Turbo stood, and then crouched over as a burning feeling overtook his belly. The little girl leapt from his arms to avoid falling, watching the small man hold his stomach, face screwed up in pain. "Ugh." He muttered. The raven haired child sat by his leg and held onto it for dear life, her eyes wide with fear when the effects of her glitching passed onto him.

The gray character glitched a crimson red, then a brilliant olive green, quickly turning into a colourful explosion of glitches while he groaned in pain, breaking down to his weak knees. Turbo gasped in pain, eyes flying open in agony. Then, the glitching pulled to a slow, green pixels tainting his face and clothes. Ralph's eyes were wide as he watched, from the open door, the small suffer hunch over in pain. "The virus…" Turbo whispered, anything but loud. "…it's trying to corrupt my programming…"

"I have to… go farther in, before the effect… spreads…" he pursed his lips, strictly avoiding crying out. Vanellope sobbed and clung tighter, shaking her head.

"I'm coming with you!" she whimpered, burying her face into his leg, and holding on tight as he hauled her along, struggling.

"No… You can't!" Turbo pleaded, yearning for his baby to go back to the others, where it was safe and secure. The darkness would fade into horrifying apparitions, if she did not return soon. "I can't let you—**_AAAAAAAGH!_**" he shrieked and collapsed onto his stomach, his glowing bronze eyes squeezed shut as the virus worked at his coding. Vanellope, wide eyed and panicked, immediately released him and crawled to his side. Horrified at his convulsing, the little girl began to sob harder. She fumbled with his hand and squeezed it hard—it was cold, so very cold… Yet, in spite his weak state, he glared at her with eyes of burning rage. Her heart skipped a beat.

The virus was successful.

"Get _away_ from me, _Glitch_!" he snarled at her.

Vanellope gave a low gasp, suddenly winded by the insult. She'd been called this many times, and surely she became unfazed by it.

But nothing.

_Nothing. _

_Hurt. _

_Like. _

_This_.

Tears welled up in her eyes, forcing her to look away. Turbo was gone… and he was back. Her hand released his and she scooted back, her chin tucked to her chest as the little child silently sobbed, her shoulders shaking weakly. She was alone again. With no family, only Fix-It and Wreck-It. Her eyes never wandered from her lap, which gradually began to stain with her tears. "Good bye…" she whimpered quietly, her eyes sliding shut softly. Memories began to shoot through her head.

_She sat on his shoulders…_

_Slept snuggled into him when she had a nightmare…_

_Being healed by him…_

_Talking to him on a candy cane tree…_

_Being protected by him…_

That was when she realized that she loved Turbo too much to lose him that easily. Vanellope shook her head, helpless against her thoughts of despair. Like wishing on a star would help. If anything, it wouldn't even change the situation.

Because he was gone.

And he was never coming back.

'_You promised._' She thought, her head still bowed. '_You promised it wouldn't end like this…_' she began sobbing, her throat going hard and lumpy.

"But it won't, my sweet little mint." A weak voice purred softly. Vanellope, knowing that it was just a stupid figment of her imagination, simply turned her head away from the evil racer. The imagination, as if desperate for her to listen, "held" her tiny hands in two big, cold ones. "Vanellope, little one…" an affectionate voice pleaded. "I promised, and Turbo never goes back on his promises."

'_Yeah, cuz you promised to destroy that stupid racing game and you did it._' She thought with a sneer, lips curling back in disgust. She hated her brain for creating these apparitions. Vanellope pursed her lips and held her hands to her face, her locks of black hair tumbling down around her small fingers. A choked sob escaped her throat. He was gone… Her daddy was gone… and replaced with this hollow _thing_. '_No… no…—_ '

A hand reached up and curled softly around her shoulders, gently tugging her towards the ground. The next thing she knew, she was curled, sobbing hard against her enemy's chest. This was her enemy. Not her father. Not anymore. Vanellope cried harder, clutching the white attire, digging her face into the soft cotton. "I promised. I promised. I promised." He was whispering to himself, trying to fight off the evil—but all for naught.

**0000**

'_C'mon, give in. You know you want to._' Banner sneered, his voice almost inches from Turbo's ear. The man curled his lips.

'_Never._' He spat. '_I'll never give in. I'll never leave my baby girl behind. It's because of you that…_' he trailed off, and the virus took the advantage.

'_You know that I'm stronger than you—so how do you know if you can fight your worst fear?_'

Turbo groaned in discomfort, squinting his eyes as Banner dug deeper into his coding. How was he going to fight him off, if he didn't even know Banner's weakness?

Then the answer hit him.

'_By… not fighting alone._'

**0000**

Vanellope snuggled her head into his neck, strictly avoiding showing her bloodshot eyes. She was all "cried out" now. Defeat was hanging in her heartstrings. This was her enemy, her darn enemy, the one who hated her and detested her very existence. And her Turbo was never coming back.

A chin settled on her head, but she didn't care…

And a hand rested on the back of her cranium, gently stroking her hair.

"I love you."

The little girl glanced up sharply, into those large, affectionate, loving sand-coloured eyes. They were no longer harsh and livid, and a soft, beautiful smile played his mouth. "W-what?" she whispered, uncertain if she heard him correctly. Turbo's eyes softened with affection.

"I love you, baby girl."

And it was tears all over again. "You're back, pops!" she cried, throwing her small arms around him. Turbo chuckled softly, still weak from the battle he previously fought.

"Yes, I am." He whispered, kissing her hair. Vanellope blinked in astonishment, but the moment quickly ended when her daddy tousled her locks. "C'mon, little one," he grunted, pulling himself up with her support. He scanned the area with his bright eyes, squinting at the intense light that was not too far off—somehow, he knew that this was for Vanellope. There was a dimmer light, shaped like an elevator. This was for him.

"Let's get you to that tunnel over there," he started, pointing to the white luminosity, "and I'll go the separate way." She glanced at him with a brief moment of fear, with which he reacted by giving the little child a quick embrace. "I'll be fine," he assured her with a big grin. "Besides, I survived that, didn't I? So, go on, an' I'll meet you an' the others later… there's something I've got to do down that corridor." Vanellope nodded finally, grudgingly trudging along, making her way toward the leading passageway.

As he watched her silhouette fade, Turbo nodded in satisfactory. "Good girl. Now, to get to that elevator…" he dashed off into the darkness, unaware of the possible danger waiting for him…

* * *

Ralph

We'd waited for them to come back, but when they didn't, Calhoun urged us to keep moving forward.

"Banner has plans for them." She had said. "So he must have plans for us, too—we should follow our own paths." I reluctantly followed Felix and the Sergeant, but inside I was longing to wait. Last I saw them, Turbo wasn't lookin' too good. He looked ill. And Vanellope was crying. But that was when Calhoun told us to move on, and I silently yearned to stay and help.

"But what if they don't make it?" I couldn't help but blurt, beside myself with worry. Tamora shook her head.

"You needn't worry about that. Turbo obviously knows about this virus more than we do—he'll know how to take care of himself." I was taken aback by her answer. How would she know that he's keeping something from us? Upon seeing my expression, the blond grinned. "Ralph, you should know by now that nothing gets past me. The man was driven by jealousy, and keeps looking ashamed when we mention the virus, so would you expect less? It's clear he knows something we don't. And when a man's child is in the face of danger—well, let's just say they get super defensive. There's your prove that little green mint will be fine."

Now here we were, walking silently, until I found my own door. I was hesitating—the last time I saw someone go through their labelled door was when Turbo was writhing in pain. Calhoun patted my shoulder and Felix smiled at me confidently. "Ralph, you can do it. If you can wreck a building, you can defend yourself. Go on… we'll meet you later, when this is over." I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat, and stepped into the suffocating darkness.

I couldn't see a thing. I was too dark and the shadows threatened to swallow me, if they hadn't already. Fear was pounding in my chest—I didn't like when I couldn't see my path. I was defenceless in the dark. Weak. Helpless.

Suddenly, an apparition blew up in my face. I was standing in Sugar Rush… The sky was dark and green, like when we left it, and there was a black hole near the diet cola fountain. The candy-sucker kept consuming everything in its path, the cola lava being sucked into its maw. It was clear that nothing—and no one—was going to survive this threat. Not unless they left their game.

My heart skipped a beat when another apparition sneered from behind me, "Scared yet, freak-hand?" I slowly turned, the hairs on the back of my neck on end, to face the newcomer. And boy, was I surprised.

It was Turbo.

Classy. I would've thought he wouldn't be in his old form, but there he was, monster and all, Cybug body twitching with life. His face was twisted into a snarl. "I've come to finish you all off… once and for all." It all felt so real. As the panic pounded in my chest, I leaped to dodge the flounce-attack of his bug legs. I scrambled to my feet and ran blindly towards the cola mountain, hoping that it would finish him off, but I was so distraught that I'd forgotten the danger that lived there—the black hole.

That was the first time I prayed to the code that this wasn't real. I gasped in pain when Turbo squeezed me, but I broke free of his grip and dashed off.

"Wrong way, _Ralphie_…" Turbo sneered, his fangs glinting as he grinned sadistically. "Let's move you on the right path, now shall we?" I found myself frozen and immobile. It was like a nightmare… but it had the realistic quality of being awake. I struggled, but he'd already wrapped his pinchers around me and wringed again… I screamed out loud and writhed for escape. I had yet to meet them!

It _couldn't_ end like this!

'_If I ever get out of this…_' I thought with a grim-dark glare into his cat-like piercing eyes, '_I swear I'll…_'

But I never finished, because before I knew it, I was back in the darkness. The only change was that there was a bright light before my eyes, and I promptly stepped into it.

* * *

Felix sighed, rubbing his arms anxiously while he walked further into the darkness. He'd left his wife trudging along when he'd entered his door. He found himself reaching for his hammer constantly and held his breath, wishing for some sign of when this terror was going to start. He was terrified of the future events and was often the one to fantasize about it, scaring himself more than necessary. But in the circumstances like this…

Bright light consumed him for a moment… then he found himself wandering the world _Hero's Duty_. The area was very threatening and hostile… Cybugs buzzed around the building, swarming in packs of deleterious substance. They were hissing amongst the beaker light, absconding quickly and disgracefully amongst each other and thriving for escape. Felix caught his breath in his throat—he was so foolish to be right in the open, where, amongst these adverse large bugs, he would be eaten!

He fled the hostile area and sought a safer, more secure place to hide, ducking behind a ripped up piece of metal that could possibly be a former bus or car. It was probably the latter. Felix shook his brunette head to clear his troublesome thoughts. Now wasn't the time to ponder everything's existence. He had to stay quiet and close his eyes—

"UGH! GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU GOSH-FORESAKEN VIRUS!"

That cry… That was Calhoun! She was pinned to the ground, spitting insults to the attacking Cybug… Even if it was an apparition, it still hurt… Fear flooded his chest when its pinchers neared her, preparing to take a bite.

"**_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_**" Felix gave a scream of pain when the vile creature's pinchers sank into his wife. He bolted from his hiding place, eyes filled with rage, but something swooped down and gnarled itself around him. He thrashed violently. "Let me go!" he snarled.

A sneer whispered to him. '_Scared, little man?_' It was the virus whispering to him. '_Well, let's see… what would you ever do if your beloved was murdered?_' the jab hurt more than a thousand knives, and Felix knew it.

But as he hissed in pain, he also spat, '_I'll overcome my fear!_'

The world of apparitions suddenly became dark, and he found himself floating, on the verge of consciousness… He swam in the invisible water, striving for the brighter area before him, feeling exhausted at his brain's expense to the vision. The fixing handy man rubbed his arms anxiously and closed his eyes when the teleporting light enveloped him.

And then he found himself in wet, sticky mud, rain pattering on his skin softly. Felix moaned and curled up tighter.

"Felix!" Vanellope cried happily, and a small shape leapt onto him, squishing him into the mud. The small man blinked his eyes open in astonishment when she sat on his stomach and grinned down at him boldly. "Awake yet, Sleepin' Beauty?" she snickered and rolled off, giving Felix the full view of the area. The clouds threatened to consume them with fog, but glitching numbers flickered here and there, a sparkly electric blue. Fix-It shook the rain from his hair, rolling onto his stomach and peeling himself from the sticky mud.

"Gross." He muttered, smacking his damp clothes with his golden hammer. A new attire reinstated the filthy latter. The little raven haired girl bounced by his side.

"C'mon, c'mon! Ralph's over there!" she squeaked and pulled his hand, dragging him across the damp prairies of heather and mud to the large man, with crossed arms. Calhoun, whose eyes were dark and filled with tears, glanced away when Felix hopped ecstatically over. Like a bee to honey, he'd immediately sensed her drowning sorrows and approached her carefully.

Ralph ran a colossal hand through his thick russet hair, eyes dark and grim with concern. Vanellope cocked her head to him. "What's up, chump?"

He shook his head… "We're missing one…" her heart tightened. Wasn't her Pappy here yet?

"What do you mean?" she hated herself for asking, because she already knew the answer.

Wreck-It sighed. "Turbo's missing…"


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen: Take a Wild Guess

"So… what do we do, now?" Felix whispered anxiously, eyeing the area we were standing in. It was as though someone had dropped us right in the middle of a pouring graveyard. The ground beneath our feet was stone and slippery pebble, fog crashing in from all around us. But this was no ordinary fog; no… it was green and olive-y, like that of Vanellope's face when she came down with the virus. Before Turbo had taken the issue into his own hands and healed the kid, that is.

I stuck my hands into my overall pockets, muttering small words intended for the sake of Turbo's coding. "You reckless little dim-wit… Just get back here safe, all right?" My grumbles had caught the girl's attention, which sat on my shoulder and scanned the area around us. She peered at me with big, russet eyes that bore into my own. "Something up?" I inquired, blinking at her wondrously.

She sniffled a little, sitting back, strictly avoiding looking at me in this vulnerable state. Turbo'd promised her that he'd 'see her later', whatever that meant—because clearly it didn't mean what it sounded like. She just wished she knew of his whereabouts, because she was sick of waiting for something to pop up and surprise her. Being in his arms had made her feel safe, like a young kitten into its parent. "I wished he were here already," Vanellope whispered finally, her big, round eyes falling to the ground miserably.

"Oh, Vanellope," I sighed, my eyes soft. I usually was hardened to the point of not feeling anything for the small child, except for playful affection. But I was hard and blunt, detaching myself from emotions. Dangerous emotions that could pin me down like a cork to butterfly. I lifted her off my shoulders and stared at the pitiful thing. "To think that he was just an antagonist to you..." I watched her with auburn eyes as the black haired girl rubbed her forehead.

"It's not fair." she whispered. "Karma isn't fair. Justice is stupid." in the rare event that Vanellope was angry, I would find a way for her to extract it harmlessly, unlike the way I did. But I couldn't agree more with her this time—Turbo got the entire boot. Even if I fully didn't forgive his reckless anger towards losing the spotlight and becoming a monster- a virus- I felt that he deserved something better. We all did, from time to time.

But Turbo had done so many terrible 'errors' that Karma decided to tease him.

And we would tease him about that, too. We would joke and shove him around playfully, back in Hero's Duty, and Turbo would give a big, toothy pollen grin. He loved to forget about the unfairness in the world and just lay back with Vanellope in his arms.

It was good for her, and good for him. They both had lived hard lives, both had lost someone important to them, both had been neglected for so long that they turned to each other. The gap was filled. Their bond was of a father's love for their child, and a child's affection towards their parent. I couldn't have smiled any harder than I did at that moment, and I tousled her hair. "There's nothing to worry about, kiddo. He'll find his way back to us. Wanna know why?" she nodded vigorously. "'Cause he loves you."

Vanellope smirked and rolled her eyes, much to my surprise. "Duh." she snorted, with a frivolous grin playing her mouth. I cocked an eyebrow. "I mean, he shows it a lot... The way he tucks me in at night, hugs me when I have a bad dream..." Vanellope grimaced and briefly looked away with tears in her eyes. "I want Dad back." she was curled into my arms by this time, and my heart was weak with pain. I remembered feeling that aching feeling when my father passed away. I still miss him, too...

I could only hope, to no benefit, that she wouldn't do anything vacuous. The devastation of a parent missing could occasionally drive a small child up the wall when they're frantic—surely they would do something deleterious. In this state of affair, I tucked her in my arms snugly, refusing to release her in concern of her wild stupidity. I didn't want her to do anything dense and regretful.

"What should we do?" Felix's voice echoed around in my thoughts, shaking me from my trance. I shrugged indifferently, unsure of how to approach the situation. Should we wait for Turbo, or move on, like he would have planned? Vanellope's eyes flashed with agony, something that I would've taken into consideration before making any choices. But with the circumstance the way it is, we couldn't risk staying behind when there could be something lurking in the shadows for us.

"We should move on." I said firmly, avoiding the look in the kid's eyes. "I think he has plans." Turbo always has something up his sleeve. Why else did he survive the cola explosion? How else could he have slipped out of his game before it was unplugged? Cleverness. I would have said all of this out loud; to assure Vanellope, but it just didn't pop up at the time. I'm not as clever as her father is.

With the silence of a preying tiger, the group began to wander forth into the unknown world. I couldn't see anything that would help me. Only statues and gravestones… I refused to read any, for fear of seeing a link to any of my loved ones.

However, what did catch my eye was a structure of two, small young boys, both with a playful glint in their eyes to suggest that they were troublemakers. Their attire was strikingly similar to Turbo's, but seeing as statues have no official colour, it was hard to make a connection. A young woman, suggestively in her teenage years, wrapped her arms around them goofily and tousled their hair. Their eyes were wide and mouths were curved into a smile, obviously to keep a good memory of how they were before their codes exploded. We all stopped before it, Vanellope reading the carved words, her eyes expanding in wonder.

"'Turbo-Time.'" She read thoughtfully. "'These three children brought the light of my day. Natalie, my sister, who tucked me in when no one did. She passed of a virus. Then my two colleagues, who were more of my brothers, were soft spoken and enjoyed hiding in someone's shadow. They died with our home.'" Vanellope slouched over and sighed in despair. "Turbo carved this." She murmured. "I can't imagine losing everything I loved. But where are we, exactly?"

"You are in the Memory's Corridor."

My heart leapt with stunned wonder when another boy, a spitting image of one of the Turbo-Time Twins, stood behind us. His big, toothy grin—on that was almost exactly like Turbo's—put our panic to ease, but not our suspicion. He was aglow with a soft, shimmering cerulean light, though transparent and small. His golden eyes sparkled with recognition. "You used to be our neighbour." He said with a grin, nodding in my general direction. Having not known what to say, I simply gave him a dumb-struck stare.

Mild amusement played his brilliant tangerine eyes. "Speechless?" he guessed, hands behind his back as his complexion gave way to playfulness. Vanellope was smiling at the eleven year old boy, never minding the fact that it was just pixels and raw energy. Dash clearly noticed this, for then he beamed at her and nodded. "Vanellope Von Schweetz." He grinned impishly and rubbed his white-streaked helmet. "You're Miss President, right?" He glanced around, eyeing Tamora up and down. "And you're the Hero's Duty gal."

I was beginning to wonder how Dash could have possibly known everything about us, when I'd realized: he was a ghost. He could go anywhere he wanted without being seen… This means… Dash's striking pale eyes flew to Vanellope warmly. Had we not known his true age, I would've thought he was a full grown man in the body of a boy. "And you're Turbo's daughter. This makes you my niece." His eyes went to all of us, as though to take the group in.

"Like I said, you're in the Memory's Corridor. It doesn't necessarily exist, though… it lingers between the bonds of reality and dreams. You might not see it, but it's an entire world inside the game console's programming. You know, the blocks and stuff that represent your programming?" Vanellope nodded and slid from my arms, walking forth to approach him. Dash gave a burly smile. "When your codes diminish, the black void becomes an entire world. You can only see it when you're dead.

However, another way to access it is to dream about it. That's how Turbo carved the statue. But he didn't know that it was real. There's an invisible border between the dead's world and the living, made from the same raw energy that stopped you, Vanellope, from leaving the game before. Of course, I assume that's changed?" another nod of confirming. "Good; we wouldn't want you in a pickle like that again. But Fate's got a job for me to do—I'd best be getting to it." Dash, his attire glinting slightly, cleared his throat and beckoned for us to follow him through the muddy graveyard.

"Y'see," he began, as the other child tagged beside him, "Banner brought you guys here for the showdown. My job is to take you there safely, without any of his deleterious shenanigans getting in the way. My twin has done the same for Turbo, wherever he is now." I felt unease ripple down my spine as I inspected the surrounding atmosphere. It almost scared me to know that we were being led to the final level. If we didn't survive, it'd mean the end for our games… and the others who lived in it. Dash seemed to sense this, and he turned his head almost at a 180 degree angle to give me an assuring smile. "It'll be fine, Wreck-It Ralph. Just get this done, and you'll all get home safely… Well… _almost_ all of you." At the last sentence, his voice had turned forlorn and quiet.

It better not mean what I think it means—because no matter what, Turbo needs to come with us. Vanellope needs him—heck, we _all_ need him! Without him, we'd have no idea what to do about Banner. But was that really it? Did our group need him anymore than he needed us, or just Vanellope like she needed him? I shook my head to clear the thoughts. I couldn't afford to focus on that right now. What mattered at the present moment was where we were, and what was going to happen next…

* * *

"So you're telling me that Banner basically takes his pixels from a _pedestal_." Turbo cocked an eyebrow, trying to register the information in his head. He shook his head. It just didn't fit the facts. "That doesn't make any sense, Ford. He feeds off of death—or fear, no matter. That's what Natalie said." Ford, the ghost twin who sat on the gravestone in the small room, shrugged indifferently, shaking his helmet-adorned blond head.

"Why do you think otherwise? The pedestal is obviously," he waved an arm to gesture around the room, "a gravestone. And a gravestone resembles death, no? But listen to this—are ya listening? 'Cause boy, Turbo, I know how much your mind can wander." Ford grinned at him impishly, to which his companion rolled his sunny eyes and nodded dazedly. "Good. The pedestal is actually two. In each one, there is a slot to throw each fist into. It'll lock his hand in place and if he concentrated hard enough, he could extract energy from his body to use it against others—but there is a consequence for that, if he wasn't dead already…"

Turbo sat in from of the gravestone and gazed up at the little energy boy. "And that would be…?" With this, Ford unpredictably narrowed his pallid pyrite eyes. It was clear that he was reluctant to explain it. Nevertheless, the information was required if Turbo were to be any closer to Natalie's definition.

"Look, Turbo—you were my brother. I just don't want you to get hurt." Slowly, the little racer raised his hands to hide his face. His head shook, as if he were in denial. "I just don't know, Turbo…"

He felt a larger hand rest on his transparent shoulders. "Hey." A gentle tone reached his ears—the kid glanced at him through hiding fingers. Turbo grinned at him, his teeth naturally yellow and glinting. This was not to be blamed for—their game was so old that the creators didn't have the proper coloured pixels. "I'm not gonna do anything stupid, kiddo. You can trust me." The boy, acting far from his age, cocked an eyebrow uncertainly. Turbo yanked off his clear white streaked helmet and tousled the boy's hair. "Chillax."

Grumbling under his breath, Ford hooked his thumbs into his pockets and growled. "Fine, you win. But if you dared do something stupid, please remember that I will hit you. Hard." Turbo gave a chuckle of soft amusement and shook his head slowly.

"Whatever you say."

"No, I'm serious. I'll smack ya so hard that yer head will spin, and you'll go flying into next week without knowing what hit you." Ford crossed his arms, glaring daggers into his former colleague's eyes. "Whatever. The consequence for using your own energy and coding source is that, if you dare use enough, you'll be at risk of dying. But since Banner's already dead… well, you know. That basically makes him invincible. Unless—" he broke off instantaneously, shaking his head. "Never mind. I wasn't going to say anything."

Turbo dismissed it indifferently. "So… Banner's dead… feeds off of death and negativity…" he lulled it over. "But if one were alive, then… could it be the opposite…?" Ford lowered his gaze, clearly refusing to answer. The man frowned in disapproval. "You ain't being any help, Ford. And that i_th_ unex_th_eptable." Taken aback by his usually passive lisp, Turbo winced in humiliation as the little boy giggled spontaneously. "Hey, hey! It i_th_n't funny to make fun of someone'_th_ inability." This only fed the little one's laughter. Turbo chose to ignore him.

"_Th_ut up."

"Hahaha! You sound like a clown!"

Turbo's eyes darkened instantly. "Ye_th_. Ye_th_, ye_th_ I do. Maybe that'_th_ what gave me my disgui_th_e of King Candy." Ford's hilarity went silent, and his face was ashamed and blushing red.

It was a moment before he whispered, "I'm sorry." The companion smiled softly and shook his head dismissively.

"Doesn't matter." He whispered in response, regaining control of his speech, letting it slide back into its normal pitch. "Vanellope does it all the time." He sat up, promptly removed his helmet and ran a hand through his bleach blond hair. "Now let's get back down to business, shall we? Why did you bring me here?" Ford gave a small, tooth grin, jumping off the gravestone of which he sat.

He swept his hand before the fist-slot embedded in the granite and grinned.

"Take a wild guess."

* * *

**A/N: All right, here is Chapter Fifteen. I've decided on a goal, and I was hoping you guys could help: I want to try to get at least three feedbacks (reviews) per chapter. It can be contructive or promptly, both I would appreciate! All right, until we meet again! :)**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen: An End to This Madness

_A/N: I'm really sorry for not updating at all. The computer broke down, but I assure you that the next updates will be far quicker. (I hope.)_

We'd walked for more than I'd remembered. We'd walked until our feet ached and our muscles complained for rest. Until red haze filled our eyes and until sleepiness worked into our brains. I hardly administered staying awake, and apparently the same went for Vanellope, who kept swaying from side to side. It was at that point when I concluded I would carry her to our destination- wherever the heck it was. Honestly, I was exhausted at the mere thought of having to move another two miles.

But it was for naught. We all were aware of the threat we would face when we got 'there', and we were wasting precious time deciphering the virus's plan. It clearly had something to do with exhausting us on our way here—then we wouldn't be in the appropriate condition to defend ourselves. Well, all of us, excluding our dynamite gal. Calhoun was slapping her pockets nervously, dark eyes darting and flickering like that of uncertain candle lights. I thought she was in great physical condition, but mentally... She was pretty much having a melt down.

Geez, you'd think that Cybugs were worse than a plain old virus- but maybe it was the thought that we were weak and vulnerable outside of our games that gave it away. I'd never thought that the fear would bother her as much, since it didn't before. Felix took her hand and quietly kept to himself, no emotion in his face, other then affection and concern for his soul mate. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, wondering when our hike to the showdown will come to a halt.

Dash seemed so intent on getting us all there. His glowing yolk eyes seemed to shine brighter every time we asked when we were going to get there. Be it irritation or excitement (which would be peculiar, considering the threat's intentions) I was still slightly suspicious of his quiet behaviour. Why wasn't he saying something? Even a small word of reassurance would have given me some comfort- but then again, with the circumstances the way they were, there was no telling if we were even going to live.

Honestly, we all just wanted to stop and breathe for a moment. Walking nonstop was eventually tiring to even inanimate objects, if you believed that. After all, we were all built with life limits, just as humans were. Although, in such a manner quite diverse did we actually die- that depended on what caused our death. We can't simply become defunct- there has to be a physical reason. Sometimes there could be mental or spiritual causes as well, but were fairly less common when in comparison to physical assaults.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?"

Vanellope looked up at me with round, expectant eyes, shimmering with the former sparkle of mischief. I shrugged nonchalantly and tried to look like the thought was monotonous, keeping her from inquiring further. She didn't need to know about my dire thoughts- it would only make her simmering eyes flat with fury. I swear, those eyes could pierce the soul like lightning strikes a tree. And I didn't need that kind of stress, as did she. If she knew that I was thinking the likelihood of Turbo's death, she would be livid. Enraged. Trust me... You don't want an enraged Vanellope Von Schweetz.

Especially when she had a heavy dosage of denial.

The poor thing had enough to fret herself over without having a death wish ordeal. Banner knew now that she was Turbo's soft spot- surely the virus would try to take the advantage for his own benefit. If I could just belie his theory, maybe I could convince him that Vanellope was worth nothing when it came to Turbo. That he had no weaknesses or soft spots. However, the only way I would prove _that_ would be if he were corrupt again.

"Dash?" I asked quietly, wakening the small boy from his stunned trance. The little ghost glanced at me with anticipant eyes of golden knowledge—but beyond that was the plea of a child, begging for comfort and a rest to his ruthless obsessions. My eyes softened at the small, panicky copy of Turbo. "Are you all right, kid?" Tears glazed over his eyes like it was some sort of contact lense. They never ceased, just built up to be more omnipotent until they swallowed him into the darkness.

He covered his face and fell to his knees, quivering slightly as he pondered what to say. It was easy to see that he was a keep-to-yourself type, finding it easier to conceal his pain away in a chest of secrets. But sooner or later, that very chest would explode into a million sparks of LED electricity. I knelt beside him with an abnormally large hand on his small spine, running it up and down calmly, pacifying the tiny phantom. Dash glanced up at me with eyes swollen with tears and a sob escaped his throat.

"I can fix it." Aah, there goes handy man. I—gobsmacked—hurried away from the petrified young boy, unsure of what to do in the state of affair, whilst Felix crawled through the thick mud to the child's side. I'd never actually dealt with anyone, besides Vanellope, crying, and sure as heck wasn't about to risk anything vacuous. The small man was a healer, not a wrecker—surely you get it by now. I ain't so good with kids, besides the one that pesters me day in and day out. I had to grin at that. I mean, Vanellope's a good kid and all, but you would think that she'd have anything better to do. And yet she's likes racing even better than poking fun at me.

Go figure.

We apparently weren't far. There was still no sign of you-know-who, but we all figured we'd wait him out and then go beat the shitake mushrooms out of Banner. Somehow.

If we couldn't find the one spot and/or way to take him down, we'd just be batting at thin air that his pixels had taken up. That said, I began to wonder of his outwardly appearances and what a virus actually looked like. I mean, he could pass us right by and we wouldn't even know it because he could look casual. Then again, a feeling in my gut told me that I'd know him when I saw him. And, as it would usually turn out…

I _did_!

It was simple. Dash had calmed down and was sniffling slightly as we went along, Vanellope yawning on my shoulders while her eyes wearily scanned the area. Felix was holding the young boy's hand softly in his own, and I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of affection gleaming in Calhoun's eyes as she looked over the youngling. Had the child never been dead… they could have been a _family_. They could have a child… and he and his twin could have parents, unlike their original programming sought them out to be.

While I was trapped in these thoughts, I failed to notice the figure standing in our way. He was sleek and neat, dare I say, with emerald green hair lit up in the dim moonlight. Overhead, the thunder snarled as lightning dashed in ribbons across the sky, and the wind howled simultaneously. A small shiver travelled down my spine as a callous grin smoothly fell upon his complexion, eyes tapered in hunger. Vanellope reached for my hand, and I quickly lifted her off my shoulder and into my arms in protection.

There was something wrong here… Something terribly wrong.

His arms flew wide in a welcoming gesture, in spite the immoral eye-gleam and malicious sneer taking his face. His olive green hair, adorned with a charcoal black top hat, fell over his dark eyes in the strong wind. A small whimper came from Dash, whom became, if possible, even less visible. "Welcome, _friends_." He spat the words with venom. "Welcome to Banner's Challenge! I'm your host, quite plainly, Banner." He stooped down low into a bow and waved his hand when we simply stared in horror. "Now, now. You can get used to an odd looking fellow like me, can't you?"

Dash finally found his voice… even if it was wavering critically. "I-I did what I w-was s-s-suppos-sed to do-o, B-Banner. J-just don't h-h-hurt th-em, _plea-ease_. They m-mean so much to T-Turb—"

"_Don't say his name!_" Banner hissed, swiping at the boy like quick silver and pummelling the child to the ground. There, Dash laid pathetically, his eyes round with terror as the tall, slender man advanced on him, leaning over toweringly. "That son of a glitch still has yet to show his face to me… After all, he is in _debt_." Taken aback, I flinched violently. Vanellope took no notice of his words and immediately dropped from my arms, stomping over to him with an enraged gleam in her eyes.

Oh, this was going to be good.

"Leave him alone!" The little pixie stick screamed, her small pudgy hands grappling Banner firmly as she gave a weak attempt to shove him away from her new friend. The tall virus gave a mockingly impressed grin as he strived for his bearings, arms crossed at the small girl. Vanellope glared at him atrociously. "I thought Banner would be a better looking brute than the likes of you. Nice hair, Selkie." Unfazed by her commentary, the virus grinned and shook his head leisurely.

"And you must be Princess Vanellope Von Schweetz. I'm honoured to be in my enemy's daughter's presence, your Majesty." He knelt and took her hand to politely kiss, but Vanellope yanked it out of reach with a revolted expression on her face before kicking him hard in the stomach.

"President." She snapped, wiping her hand vehemently against her soft green hoodie. Banner looked up with a wheezing expression and echoed her.

"I'll be sure to remember that…" he groaned, and stumbled to his knees, eyeing the rest of our group. Vanellope pulled Dash to his feet, pulling him behind the protection of Calhoun's tall legs—Felix and I took the positions in front, eyes narrowed at the virus. "Well now, everyone sure seems to be delighted." Banner smiled. "Best we get off to business, shall we?" he winked at the two of us… then began to glitch here and there, circling us with a trail of smoky green fog.

"You see…" he sighed, voice disoriented with the effort, "I'd like to get started on these challenges… But _someone's_ a little _late_." His human figure popped up before us, a pout playing his lips. "Maybe he ran out on you guys. Too bad, mm?" I rolled my eyes in disgust. Like he was going to convince us that Turbo left; he wouldn't leave Vanellope behind like that. Before long, Banner began strolling around us in circles. "I s'ppose it might have something to do about getting his game back… or his role as lead character. Ooh, how intriguing that would be… yes?" a flicker of doubt crossed Vanellope's face. She looked to the ground with a sceptical expression.

She wasn't taking him seriously, was she?

Banner, his eyes rolling in her direction, gave a frivolous grin. "Of course, he couldn't dare leave Vanellope Von Schweetz behind… could he?" his hands folded neatly behind him, he strolled around our group, inspecting every inch he could. "It seems as though, maybe, that it was all a lie. After all, he wouldn't have made that deal with me, if it weren't…" oh, how he just loved every delectable moment when Vanellope's eyes widened with agony. I was just confused. Deal? Could it have been all a lie? He told us he had nothing to do with Banner… But that could have been a scam, too.

I couldn't believe he did that to us. After all we'd been through…

His gloved hand running through locks of green, spiky hair, Banner gave a yellowy grin. The look on his face, and in his grassy green eyes—he was enjoying every moment. "I s'ppose you might be wondering… 'What is this deal you speak of, Banner?' Well, let Banner tell you, and maybe I'll let you live another eight hundred seconds…" Poof! He glitched right in front of me, eyes narrowed in what you might venture to call malice. A grin played his lips. "Long before you saw him again, even before he came to _Sugar Rush_ for revenge… he made a deal with _me_.

"Perhaps it was desperation, or maybe a little bit of anger, but he so foolishly decided to use me. His job as a Good Guy meant to cleanse and purify all sick… that went for viruses, as well." As he let that sink in, my heart rate sped up. I felt my eyes begin to widen with horror. Banner had come from_ Turbo Time_! "The day that _Road Blasters_ rolled on in and was installed, he'd come to me… and the deal came with a catch—he had to feed me codes. Of course—" he looked down at his nails indifferently and shrugged, "he never did pay out his end of the deal—except for once or twice. But I helped him crash _Road Blasters_ anyway.

"Soon after the game was unplugged, he was quite proud of himself—that is, up until he figured out that his game was unplugged, too. He was in the Game Central Station at the time, me right on his tail. Furious, he turned to me and put the blame on me… I threatened him to pay out the end of the deal, but he refused. I'd been haunting him since. I must say, that King Sugar or whatever costume sure deceived my eyes." Vanellope was staring at him, a sickened expression on her face. A new kind of hatred grew inside of her, and I was well aware that it wasn't directed towards Banner. She was furious.

Dash pouted and looked away, sighing. I guess he'd been hoping that we wouldn't figure out the accuracy, but it's better to know a terrible truth than a wonderful lie. "Of course," Banner sneered, glitching again, "now that you know it all, I'm going to have to kill you."

With that, his horrible transformation took place.

The glitches became more frequent, a hissing sound flooding our ears. We watched in terrified stunning as a bulky shape grew larger and larger with each coming glitch. It made him into a large, hulky kind of creature, green and ghastly. I gawked in horror as he towered over our heads, in a stalking sort of position that made him most similar to a giant jade cat.

Tail lashing as piercing immoral eyes glared down at each of us, he studied Calhoun cocking her gun to the monster and decided to take her down first.

Not a very logical choice.

Calhoun gave a scream of rage and shot at the large creature as it swung at her with claws of fury. To recoil from having herself beheaded by the monster, she darted back and swung her neck flat just in time, strictly avoiding the claws that hovering above her face by inches. Then she swung her gun back and shot a couple of times—only to see in utter shock that the bullets went straight through him. Turbo's words echoed in my head: "_It's not like it would have any effect. He's paranormal… only pixels, no actual coding_." My breath, stuck in my throat formerly, released into a gasp. "Tamora! It's no use—he's not going to be effected by it!" the creature paced around the sergeant, it's tail curling in irritation.

It wanted a fight—someone he could put up a good fight against. We were just pawns in his chess game; he was playing with us. There was no way, I'd realized, that any of us could actually beat him—he was giving us false hope, something that Sergeant Calhoun detested more than anything else in the game arcade. And than made her broil right over the edge. Screeching, she switched her gun into 'Supernatural Cybug' mode and began to laser it furiously in wavering directions. Banner's big jade green eyes widened as the small bullets smacked at his paws with the speed of a cheetah and frowned, pulling his feline tongue around his chops in annoyance. It wasn't much, but it was afflicting damage.

And he didn't like that one bit. Anyone could see that.

Yowling in pain as one supernatural beam pummeled him in the eye, he stood on his hind legs and held his feline face with his forepaws. Calhoun sneered and spat an obscenity at him, alongside a nasty insult. I wished she had covered Vanellope and Dash's ears, but to no avail; her words were louder than lightning. Wincing as the snarling green cat landed on all fours and crouched down, his eyes focusing on us like mice, he licked his fangs and growled. "You little pest." He hissed at Tamora, swiping at her with powerful paws and knocking her more than twenty feet back, leaving a vulnerable Vanellope and her ally cowering before him.

"TAMORA!" Felix and I shrieked in unison, staring in horror when she did not get up from the impact. She was hurt—badly. I turned at the sound of a little girl's cry, and immediately ran forward—but I wasn't fast enough. Banner's paw was raised at full height, ready to strike down upon the children.

"You!" the virus screeched in fury, lips drawn back into a snarl. "This is your fault. If you hadn't interfered with Turbo, he would still repay my debt!" with a malicious grin, he shrieked, "End of the line, Glitch!"

"No!" I ran forward and shoved them out of the way just in time before— **SMASH!** When I'd opened my eyes, the pain was coming in vehement waves. I was crushed. Crushed and buried into a hole of stones and dirt. Moaning, I hardly heard Felix approach and gently tap me with his hammer. Instantaneously, the agony had vanished… But then, Banner had Vanellope Von Schweetz cornered.

I climbed out of the hole weakly to see a cat hungrily staring down at the president. Vanellope was staring up at him, aghast that she may share the worst fate. "Don't worry," the feline grinned slowly, showing his large fangs. "Your turn will come soon." As he raised his paw for the final time, a strong, echoing voice was heard from behind.

"_Like I'd let _that_ happen_."

Stunned, we all craned our necks to see behind Banner, who also froze to glare over his shoulder.

It was Turbo.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen: The Very Simple Thing

He looked peculiar, a strong blue aura encircling him as he strode forth, his attire and big sandy eyes aglow. Occasionally a large circle of Caribbean blue swung around him, a hula-hoop of transparent cerulean. Behind him, a fainter boy followed, holding his hand anxiously as he looked up at the monster. Turbo gazed up into Banner's callous green eyes and narrowed his own, a determined grin gracing his lips. "Hello, Banner." His voice echoed and sounded like it was completely auto tuned… the vocals were highly messed up and screwed around with. He honestly sounded like a male version of that Fi girl from a Legend of Zelda arcade game. The cat recoiled in fear at the sight and condition of the character. His ears flattened.

"Hello, Turbo." Banner responded coolly, masking his fear. "What brings you to the final level? I thought I sent some creatures after you." This earned a grin for Turbo's mouth.

"Well, as you can see," the diminutive man replied laxly, "I had some… assistance, would you say. An old friend helped me."

Banner eyed the boy with the striped racing outfit and hissed in frustration. "I should have known." He snarled, advancing towards the two. "I should've known the boy would go against me." Ford whimpered and tugged on Turbo's hand, eyes big with terror. To reassure him, Turbo rubbed his thumb on the boy's knuckles and looked down at him comfortingly. 'Everything's gonna be alright.' His dancing yellow eyes seemed to whisper. Vanellope was staring at him with harsh narrow eyes, thinking over what Banner had explained earlier. She was furious with him, and it was unlikely that she'll ever forgive him.

"Turbo?" Ford whimpered and squeezed the said man's hand anxiously, staring wide eyed at the approaching cat-virus. "H-he's coming..." Turbo gave a small squeeze to the child's hand and brought Ford behind him. With a look of defiance he glared into Banner's eyes and nodded slowly.

"Banner," he said quietly, just over a whisper. "I'm ready to fill out our deal. But I have to say my goodbyes." taken aback, the cat perked his ears and peered at him closely. There was something in his eyes that flickered and danced, like a kindled flame atop a candlewick. Something close to disgust. Maybe he was revolted by Turbo's love for us all- so much that he turned himself in, no questions asked. The faint blue aura circling my friend seemed to grow brighter and more luminous, with the strong impression of readiness. Turbo's sandy yellow eyes lit up when Banner nodded approval and hissed, circling the small characters. His paws were slow and hesitant.

"Do it." was what the virus sneered. The sky above us was as dark as a twilight firmament. The only luminosity was the cerulean light emitting from Turbo's pale grey skin. At the prompt, the said character's head shot up with neon eyes narrowed. Banner stopped and sat himself down, drawing a feline paw over his ear. "But be quick. There's more to be done..." he gave a small, malicious snarl towards the cowering shape of Vanellope and jerked his head towards her, where Turbo dashed across the open apace and consumed her in his arms.

She didn't hug back.

Instead, she gave him a cool, callous glower with her rich brown eyes and pushed him aside, arms crossing into a defiant action. Hurt, Turbo coiled his hands around her arms and sat her down as he fell to his knees in the open night air. He knew she'd discovered the truth- or some of it. Some he had hidden from us to keep her safe. I guess it was important to him.

"Vanellope..." he whispered, holding her face in his two hands. She looked away hurriedly, denying the tears that worked into her eyes. Ruefully she pouted at him instead and let her gaze drop to the heather and dirt below their feet. Turbo, fazed by her hurt and disturbance, gently pulled her into a soft embrace, where he brushed the hair from her eyes and crooned softly in his child's ear. Vanellope sniffled and shook her head scornfully, fighting the powerful urge to forgive and forget the likes of him. But the feeling was so unwavering that she released the cries she had been containing. "I'm sorry... I had to do this. For you, and for your future." his soft voice was wavering slightly as he let her head fall against his chest.

Tenderly, he rested her head against his shoulder and promptly caressed her hair. "I know what I'm doing," he sighed into her little ear. "I know what I'm doing." Turbo had to have. She was bawling in his arms; he had to have his plan on his sleeve. A look flashed into his eyes dancing with feeble mischief as he pulled away and grasped her little hands in his pale own. Love was clear in his sun kissed eyes when Turbo laced his fingers into hers and rocked them from side to side, hymning a lullaby, reaching for her tears stained cheeks and wiping the water away...

It was then, as his cerulean glow turned a soft golden, that everyone realized just how far he would go to keep her safe.

"Okay, you dimwit." Banner snapped, clear impatience glimmering in his eyes. "Let's go. We've got work to do." Turbo's eyes hardened slightly before gripping the kid's face in his hands. He'd whispered something to her, but I was too far away to get a grasp of it. The look in his eyes... The desperation in his voice... The love that wouldn't die... He was hurting... hurting so much. The last thing he wanted was to upset the little nine year old that we both mutually shared love for, and now he had to leave, with Banner-to who knows where. And he never was coming back.

"All right, you virus riddled ol' warthog. I'm coming." big sandy eyes glared over his shoulder as Turbo found his feet and stood. Sitting like that for so long, I wouldn't be so surprised if he had pins and needles in his diminutive legs. With one last touch to Vanellope's small cheek, to which her round, rich brown eyes stared up at him pleadingly, he turned and waltzed towards the gigantic cat of a virus. That is, I thought he was walking, until I'd seen his feet just inches from the ground. Clearly, the enhancements of his coding had interfered with his ability to move physically, for he too looked like Ford and Dash.

Except for one noticeable thing... he wasn't a ghost, and he wasn't transparent. He was fully visible, and then I began to wonder of his cerulean glow, of how it suspended around him without him technically being a living dead. The thoughts of perplexity led to his origins, and then I realized; this had nothing to do with death. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It had to do with the origins of his game and very own coding, something he secretly planned to use against Banner up until this striking moment. The way he had healed those sick racers again...

Now, he was going to heal Banner.

The pits of my stomach jerked violently at the sudden shock. Why hadn't I seen this before? It was so clear- so unbelievably clear. I felt incredibly stupid as I watched Turbo glare up into those sinking green eyes of the virus. I knew, then, that it was my job- my 'duty'- to help distract him.

"Wait!" I cried, waving my hands crazily. "You can't take him. He, uh..." Turbo's eyes examined me with a puzzled look. "He, uh, he has rabies!" The said character screwed up his face and stared at me hysterically, as if resisting the urge to laugh at the pathetic excuse. "And, ummm..." I rubbed my arms, thinking. "He..."

"I think fast!" Turbo leapt up from his position with his springy legs and gripped Banner's fur tightly, giving it a firm yank as he clambered on top of the monster's shoulders. "Whooooaaa, boy!" he mocked, frenetically holding on with the power of Zeus to avoid being flipped off. The feline was throwing himself to and fro frantically, like that of a bull and his rider. Turbo gasped as his body slipped- but his hands refused to let go as he dangled off the side of the large creature. Letting no time escape my hands, I dashed forward and slammed my fists into the creature's large paw; which, of course, was two times bigger than me. I was practically stubbing his toes! I'd never felt so small.

"Take that, stupid virus!" I exclaimed vigorously, a large, overpowering grin growing amongst my lips. I was having the time of my life! Hissing, Banner swiped me aside with his limb, watching in rapture as my body landed heavily with a thud fifteen feet away. Red haze filled my eyes as I rolled over, holding my pulsating head as it throbbed with agony. That cat was going to get it soon if, had he decided to be persistent. A hand was placed upon my shoulder gently as I felt a moderate tap of metal against my skin. A small sound was heard-it sounded like a twinkle, I guess- and the pain faded away into nothingness. Felix, I immediately thought. Felix's hammer.

Blinking the haze from my eyes, I gazed up at the diminutive man and his cerulean attire, smiling hugely. "Thanks, Fix-It." grinning as he tipped his cap in my direction, Felix bounded away to Calhoun's side, helping keep Vanellope at bay. I struggled to my feet, a new heaviness surrounding my head, but I shook it off. It was probably a minor concussion, come to think of it, but it didn't matter. My friend needed help, and I was going to give it to him no matter what happened.

Turbo was clinging by mere strands of emerald fur by the time I'd returned. On cue, I leaped onto Banner's leg and climbed up inch by inch, vigilantly making my way up towards the slipping diminutive man. I caught him just in time as the last strand gave way and he fell, promptly onto my shoulders while catching his breath. "You okay?" I managed as I sat on Banner's shoulders. Turbo slid off and brushed his striped uniform.

"Yes, you warthog..." he teased with a burly grin, "I'm fine. I got a soft landing." He yanked off his helmet and dusted it off, running a hand through his raven black hair-wait, black? Last I checked, he had blond. As my baffled brown eyes looked him over, the pale skinned man returned the expression evenly. "It's the effect of this," he gestured to himself, the glowing, soft blue particles that danced around him. "I think it'll be permanent, anyway." I thought so too, as I gripped more fur and climbed onto the monster's head. Banner promptly whipped his cranium around in attempt to knock me off, but I held on tighter and dug my nails in the virus's sensitive ears.

Big mistake.

Letting out a yowl of agony, the feline swiped a paw over his head and I was sent flying-again. This time, though, as Turbo leaped off and bounded over, a revolution took place before us. What was once a cat was now a fog again... then a human with its hands on its hips. A grin slid on his face as Banner's electric green eyes pierced us. "I tried to warn you, didn't I?" he smiled and shook his head. "No one here just gets it, do they? They're all like you, Turbo..." Leaning forward, he added, "I guess it wasn't worth all those lives of your friends you took, now, was it?"

Silence. Turbo's eyes widened slightly in conviction. "I-" but there was nothing to say. Banner had said it all.

The silence continued, prompted by the smug gleam in the virus's eyes, until a small whimper escaped Vanellope's throat. "W-what?" she whispered softly, eyes trained on the grey skinned character as his head bowed in shame. He refused to respond, to only hold his breath and wish with all his might that this would be over.

But it would never be over. Never.

Her small feet shuffled forward, to him, her tiny hands enclosing around his arm. Turbo bit his lip and turned his head away as the child looked up at him with those big, ensnaring brown eyes. "Th-that's not true, is it?" Vanellope looked up at him with a pout adorning her lips. Tears glimmered in the edge of her eyes. "Tell that's not true," she pleaded. But he couldn't tell her that.

He couldn't lie to her.

Eyes widening in horror, Vanellope Von Schweetz covered her mouth and slowly backed away from him-from the monster before her. She had taken so many steps that she had bumped into me, but she quickly regained balance and began to shiver violently. She was in denial. "Oh," a grinning a virus sneered. "So you haven't told them? This should be interesting..." He disappeared into olive fog and drifted to us, circling the group with the most malicious intentions I've felt in years. He settled himself behind the trembling child, placing a cold hand upon her petite quivering shoulders. A cool grin played his lips as Banner sneered into her ear. "You know that he's destroyed many codes... but you also know why, now. You know why he really diminished your parents' coding-for his selfish gain.

But he also destroyed Felix's father. He was one of the first. Then he used the Road Blasters. He knew that if he'd told any of you, he'd instantaneously lose your trust. Your trust was important to him... after all, if he hadn't brought you here, what could have possibly happened in the here and now?" Vanellope's eyes were wide as she took another step away and fell into Banner's arms. He grinned at her with a tilted head upside-down, electric olive eyes boring into her own. "You know what I'm saying, kid, don't you?"

Her stomach began to churn. A hunk of ice bubbled inside threatening to consume her very surface. All those times and memories... All those moments... they were lies. He just pitied her, just wanted to cover up the fact that he actually didn't care. That he was a monster. That he cared only about himself-that only pitied himself. It was an awful realization-one that, if you had that kind of a weak heart, you would bawl and never stop. But Vanellope was not weak; she was broken. I could see it, Calhoun could see it, heck, even Turbo could see it.

His dancing yellow eyes seemed to fill with tears. "That's not true, Vanellope. Don't listen-" even as the tears fell down his ashen cheeks, and as he held his head and his breath, it was for naught. Because he knew it was true. He could not rebuff the truth of the virus's words.

But Banner had missed something, and that something was what Vanellope immediately caught. Her eyes flickered with the brief flame of kindle hope, and as her big brown eyes fell upon him brokenly, there was a look of resigned faith and determination. "That's not true."

All eyes fell on the little child, whose tears burned up and evaporated in the moon light. Her thick eyebrows had narrowed themselves until the point of touching her eyes. "Don't tell me you felt nothing when I had a bad dream back in Hero's Duty. Don't tell me you felt nothing when we were coming here, to fight him. Don't lie. You felt love. You felt more than pity-protection. Playfulness. Remember the time when that Cybug showed up out of nowhere? And the time you let me sit on your shoulders and played with me? I find Banner's words hard to believe, Turbo." she grinned crookedly, a complexion fault that they both shared. "You thought it was nothing, at first... Then it grew."

The smile, obviously contagious, worked its way into Turbo's lips until he was grinning stupidly out of the blue.

But one person was not pleased.

"Enough of this, already..." Banner snorted and strolled around the graveyard, his hand and fingers dancing along two with each slot big enough for fists to fit in. His eyes betrayed nothing more than powerful resentment as he threw his arms into the air and hissed, before plummeting his balled hands into the slits. "It's time to put an end to this, once and for all!"

At first, all was quiet as beatific faint green light rose was the pedestal and swallowed his arms; gradually making its way up and into his entire being. A dreadful silence followed as his face transformed-scratch that, his entire body stretched and bulked until it grew far over our heads. If I had a say about it, it kind of looked like those Pokémon "Ghastly" fellows... or I might be wrong about the name. But he was large and transparent, his fog arching over us as his gigantic crystal clear arms reached for the large, heavy door we'd all found ourselves walking through to get here.

The ground began to shake... Bits of the pixilated sky actually began to FALL on us. Electric sparks dashed across the room like lightning as a scream escaped somebody's throat-that of which turned out to be Vanellope's (as I later found out). We were all being blinded by this milky green light, and before we knew it, Banner was driving us away from the exit. That's it, I thought. He's trying to lure us away so he can destroy it, and then us... I began racing towards the exit, trepidation growing in my veins as I was shoving Calhoun along in a gesture to the right direction.

-  
Narrator POV  
"C'mon, c'mon!" pleadingly, Vanellope struggled to drag Turbo back. The man seemed to have a heavy weight in his brain that refused to unbind him from this ensnarement. "We have to go, Turbo!" she cried, tears filling her eyes as the character was rigid and was failing to respond. His eyes dark and blank as they fell into the dirt below his feet. "Turbo, listen to me!" sobbing, she yanked on his arm and shook him hard. "Daddy!" The glow-which she had grown used to quickly-began to spread to her arms. In feral panic, she shrieked and released him.

She stood there helplessly, her eyes round as she covered her mouth. "DADDY!" she screeched, her hands gripping his own and ignoring the tears falling down her cheeks. She did not want to die. She did not want him to die. She loved him, no matter the faults.

As the ringing of the sound reached his ears, Turbo's wiring slowly reversed its paralyses and released him of the rigid grip. Instantly, he scooped her up into his arms and took off running across the field, eyes wild with fear as he pursued the others. Vanellope hardly caught the look before trepidation replaced them, but she thought she caught the faintest expression of hopelessness. He wasn't going to give up, was he? Cradled in his arms while chaos surrounded them at ever corner, she considered it. Then the raven haired gal nodded grudgingly. It was possible.

Worried that it might stop him from over thinking their fate, her pudgy hand pressed against the swift beats of his ribcage. His eyes, for a moment, glanced down at her before looking back up. "We're gonna be okay." Vanellope whimpered to him. And with those words, she knew it be true, whether they died of this unworthy cause or survived it all the same. They would still be together, and they would be home. After all, the home was where the heart was.

Turbo panted as the sweat built up along the sides of his pale grey face. Nervousness wracked his body from every angle possible as green fog blocked his exit every now and then; he would dodge around it, but it was slowing him down drastically. At this rate there would be no escape. "We're gonna be okay," Vanellope sighed into his leather white jacket-the same one that he had wrapped her in on the way to Sugar Rush for what seemed currently the last time. He was not so sure of her words-not as sure as she was.

Hissing filled the air. It began raining green. Lightning cackled at the pawns as they ran across the moor for their exit, dashing across the firmament and high over their heads mockingly. Soon the pale racer caught up with Wreck it and Fix it, followed by a cursing Calhoun as lime mist surrounded them-keeping them from their exit. The portal leading to the Game Central Station.

It was only thirty feet away...

Vanellope dropped from Turbo's grasp and panicked, her eyes darting to and fro whilst searching inevitably for a way out of the vapour. Ralph, thinking brash, ran at full speed ahead and cared not for the mist that threatened to consume his entire vision. Calhoun followed, soon did Felix... and then the two were alone again.

The little raven haired girl gasped as the fog cleared, and the portal was in crystal clear view. Delighted, she broke into a jog and reached for it, thoughts of relief filling her mind. They were going to be okay after all. Turbo would redeem himself and they would reside in Fix it Felix Junior until further repairs could be done upon the broken game of Sugar Rush. She was too thickly in a trance of zealous delight that she nearly failed to miss a lack of Turbo's presence.

Vanellope skidded to a halt and slowly glanced over her shoulder-to Turbo staring at his cerulean-glowing hands.

He should've realized. Even if they fled the game, Banner would still have full access to the entire arcade. He would still pluck off everyone of them... Still make their lives a living nightmare. Turbo failed to see his little girl run off when the vapour cleared and looked down upon his glowing hands. He could stop all off this, he knew. He could stop and run back to where Banner plunged his hands into the gravestone.

He knew now. Turbo was life, with the wondrous Caribbean blue light enveloping him. And Banner was death. Toyota's soft voice rang through his head once more... 'B.A.N.N.E.R. feeds off of death. So his enemy is life.' Turbo was Banner's opposing player. That's the way it always had been, even for Turbo Time. Turbo would heal the sickly and the virus while he raced. It was a bonus. And now, it was time for his life energy to prevail this fight.

Even if he used it all up.

"Dad?!" Vanellope shook him out of his trance. "C'mon! We've gotta go! The portal's open now, see?!" Excited, she thrust a pudgy finger in the exit's direction. "Let's go." Turbo did not move. His eyes, glistening with tears, told a forlorn story not yet spoken. They were so weary, so full of remorse. She knew then, something was wrong... "D-Daddy?" it came out as a strangled whisper. Chaos was flowing around them. "I-is something w-wrong?"

Suddenly, as his hands gripping her arms tightly, he knelt down to her eye level and shook her. "I need you to listen to me." he babbled, his eyes deadpan serious. "Go without me. Ralph and Felix will take care of you. There's something I need to do." He pulled her softly into an embrace of fear and love. "This is the last time you'll see me, Glitch." he kissed her forehead and looked down into her eyes. "This is what I was going to tell you to do. The very simple thing. Remember, the simplest thing in the world? Go to Ralph, sweetie."

With that, he stood and brushed her off in Wreck it's direction. Turning to run, Turbo felt her little hand grab for him, but he was already out of reach.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I never meant to hurt you.

I never meant...

Be safe...

Little one.

Those were his last thoughts as the former racer approached his enemy for the last time. Banner grinned at him, beaming ear to ear as the pixel virus shrank into the tombstones. Promptly, Turbo stared into his hands... the ones that had held his little one, the ones that had comforted her from nightmares... and then, with a final sigh, he shoved them into the fist slots and felt his codes began to scream as they became nothing but an echo of what they once were.

And, as the character gave way for dizzying blackness, he heard a blood-curdling scream that belonged to his baby girl.

"**_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_****_!_**"


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Seventeen: Saying Goodbye

_A/N: Dudes... Dudettes... please proceed to getting tissues... This is where the true sadness lies... And by the way, the story is nowhere near the end. Just letting you know, all right, guys? :)_

Beforehand...

Never had she felt such extreme devastation as she lunged out for his pale grey hand. Vanellope, confused and stricken, threw herself forward, propelling through the air... only to land into the thick, heathery mud that was created for pixilated purposes only. Sobbing as her small body exploded into glitches of ones and zeros, the baby girl pulled herself up and shivered in the freezing paste that currently covered her from head to toe. "Turbo!" She sobbed, wiping the tears of dread away with her filthy coated hands and peering up to see the racer-her _father_- dashing across the heather field. Away from her, away from everything he'd ever known... to ultimately meet his fate.

She was oblivious to his hard-wired brain and was unaware of his plans, but knew that it could not possibly be any benefit to himself, if for the others. It felt as though he were... a catalyst. A simple sacrifice for the greater good of his friends and family... those he felt tender affection for, regarding his brothers Wreck-It and Fix-It. Her heart pounded as she sucked her legs out of the clingy paste and ran as fast as her pudgy, small legs would take her.

"Daddy!" screamed a pleading Vanellope Von Speed, to no avail. Her words, loud as her petite lunges could manage, fell on deaf ears as Turbo became tinier and tinier with every swift step he took. Perhaps her words echoed in another time or place, but not to his knowledge.

All that flooded his eyes was that fiery determination. He was no longer Turbo (mentally), but a cheetah, sprinting across the hill in chase of a predator. His electric yellow eyes glinted in the moonlight as he carried himself on, no matter how tired he was or how his lungs screamed for more air. He was driven by this mad willpower, a heroic instinct that anybody could succumb to, had they had the chance. Vanellope knew something was going on the minute she looking into those kindled eyes of hate and vengeance... of pain and loneliness... and, most of all, remorse.

Turbo... he was redeeming himself for the final time. All of the pain he'd caused his baby girl, all of the sorrow he'd caused himself...

"Oh, Daddy..."

Vanellope skidded to a demanding halt and remorsefully stared at his hardly visible features. As the child panted heavily, she failed to hear Wreck-It Ralph approach her cautiously and lift her into his colossal arms. Vanellope, assuming this must be for comfort, tucked her tiny head into his chest and let the tears wash over her. Her tiny body wracked with bawling sobs as she curled into his arms, her head throbbing and nose running. She'd cried enough already-wasn't that enough? Why did she have to be punished? Didn't Turbo know how much it hurt to see someone she dearly loved die? Or did he just know, in his heart, that he was doing what he felt was best for them?

One could only really assume what was going on in a rambunctious mind like that one...

Sniffing, Vanellope bolted up when she realized that Ralph was carrying her away, towards the portal. "NO!" Shrieking, she struggled with his omnipotent wrecking strength and sobbed harder when she saw Turbo pulling to a slow towards Banner. "**NO! RALPH, LET ME GO RIGHT NOW!**" tears streaming like rivers from her eyes, rage began to bubble in her chest. With a sudden surge of willpower, she glitched out of his protective grip and began to glitch her way here and there, faster that her running would usually take her. In all honesty, she thought it a strange, tingly feeling to materialize out of nowhere and become not of existence-that was what her glitching did-but in persistent measures, she would make her way towards her destination and never stop. Even if it _was_ a mystifying experience.

**_WHIIRRRR. WHIIRRRR. WHIIRRRR._**

_Glitch, glitch, glitch..._

She was so close now... So close... Having covered a half mile with her glitching was incredible enough, and even with her just five feet away, she had an exhilarated, relieved feeling kindling her chest. Vanellope was going to save him, no matter the consequence, no matter the cost-

-When suddenly, '_unexpectedly_', her glitching quickly turned corrupt.

Screaming as she flickered in exploding lights of crimson red and cerulean blue, the child lost control of everything and fell headfirst into the dirt and heather. Maybe she would have preferred the mud, she thought, as she examined the cuts and bruises she had been awarded with for underestimating the strength of her glitching. This happened all the time; if she misused it for more than Vanellope could handle, she would go plummeting into havoc. That wasn't a error-it was just the way her body approached and worked with things.

The helpless child looked up just in time to see it, just three feet away-the most painful sight anyone would ever see in all their years. Turbo pressed his fist into a tombstone, and as another hand found its way into the other slot, her heart stopped beating. Dead. Lifeless. That was all she felt, and as his balled hand came into contact with the tombstone, that's when it happened.

His codes exploded into a million sparks of cerulean glitching.

Vanellope's eyes widened. Her heart pumped up again, but of shock and paralysis...

And of _pain_.

"_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_"

The scream had not sounded human, or of belonging to her, in fact. It was strangled and sob-filled, sounding like someone grieving terribly over the loss of someone they loved. And by all accounts, it was true.

His colourful pixels sparked and screeched as an electric hiss filled the air. All he had... his physical appearance, his data banks... it all was devastated pixels on the ground, which lay glinting the frosty moonlight like shattered stained glass. Unbearable light filled the air, shooting from the pedestals that had manipulated his coding into a source of power. It was so incredibly dazzling that Vanellope Von Speed had to squeeze her eyes shut and welcome the intolerable darkness of her thoughts.

That beautiful Caribbean light filtered the castle and consumed Banner. His horrendous screeching of anger flooded her ears, but the child dared not open her big brown eyes. The sound of combustion rung in her hearing range. With that explosion came a gust of wind-not just any wind, but a breeze that she could _feel_ the emotions he had been hauling around with him everywhere. Something that, maybe if she were not traumatized in the future because of this, made her realize more of what Banner really was.

**Envy.**

A memory, not hers at all, flashed into her mind's eye. _A child with big green eyes and platinum white hair was glaring daggers at the Turbo Twins and their older colleague. A sickly child, a child of viruses and malware dysfunctions, who scorned his disgusting health. "Why did I have to be made like this...?"_

**Fear.**

_"I'm sorry... I-I d-din't m-m-mean to!" It came out as a half sob as a cowering baby boy pushed himself against a brick wall, looking up at their strict parent bashfully._

**Mistrust.**

_"Who are _you_?" a hostile little child wandered the Game Central Station, snarling at a few onlookers._

**Defeat.**

She knew better now. Banner was an innocent boy taken over by a not-so-innocent virus. He had carried these nasty emotions around with him his entire life and they consumed him, until he became a man of no love. But he had let them control him. Vanellope, having been swallowed by these precious memories, failed to notice prior to that all noises had died down dramatically, and the light no longer tried to break through the barrier of her eyelids. Vigilantly blinking them open with mild fear, the child was taken aback when she was floating in total darkness. Well, not floating-sitting. But she was clean and free of the filthy mud, sitting on blackness. Ralph and Felix and Calhoun were there, too-their eyes fixated on a sight ahead.

She knew, with all hope bursting into joy, what this might be.

Turbo had to have survived!

"Out of the way!" a shrill voice of zeal broke through the small group. "Let me through-" the joy in her heart melted into horror as her jaw fell slack. There was a faint, shimmering cerulean glow... Those rich chocolate brown eyes lost all of their light as her pupils shrank drastically, inhalation coming in small, forceful breaths. She fell to her knees, to paralyzed to hear anything but his weak, screwed up voice. Now he _really_ sounded like Fi from_ Legend_ _of Zelda: Skyward Sword_.

"**_Baby_**_ girl**...**_"

Her eyes, crystallized and wide, finally blinked and she swallowed, forcing herself to look at what had made her tremble. It _was_ him... b-but there was something _wrong_.

He shouldn't look like that...

There was a faint outline of cerulean blue tracing his body and clothes and every detail. His eyes, now the same blue hue, blinked with LED light enough to creep her out and send cold shivers down her spine. There was a sphere in his chest, glowing faintly. This was his programming core. His heart. But that glow was losing its light quickly. He was a ghost. Turbo was a ghost. And that ghost was looking down at her, LED eyes staring into her very core. Horrified, Vanellope blubbered and ran to him with outstretched arms. As she expected impact the moment she anticipated her arms to come into contact with him, she instead fell right through his body and into the hard, black surface of... wherever she was.

The solid and harsh surface only made her bawl harder. The child was losing everything she loved. Everything she knew and her home as well. The new cuts and bruises were nothing to the pain she really felt inside. Weeping uncontrollably into her small pudgy hands, Vanellope shook her head. This couldn't be happening. It was all a dream. It had to be. Oh, wouldn't someone tell her it was a dream? Wouldn't someone have mercy for her and finally comfort her that it was only a nightmare and that she could wake up now?

"No... no... NooooOOOOoooo..." she hissed to herself , the agony eating at the fresh crack in her core. If any more happened, she was sure it would split in two. Her hands, clammy and quivering violently, covered her face in shock. '_Please tell me this isn't happening...'_

"_B**aby**_..."

Vanellope would have vomited at the strange sound he called his voice. But that wouldn't have been very polite, now would it? "Pappy..." it escaped her whimper sounding strangled and tired. She was afraid of him, of that monster he turned into, but she was torn between running for cover (which would be Turbo's old form) or running away from this... this... thing. Ghost.

She didn't need to look up at him bashfully and blubber an apology-because he was there in a swift momentum. Her daddy, her papa, her father, her pops... Her Turbo. Vanellope's daddy held her in his arms, pressing his cheek against her own as she sobbed into his neck. Her papa ran his warm ashen fingers through her charcoal black hair. Her father rocked them from side to side, singing softly, knowing that this is there last, spared moment together... and finally, her Turbo said his goodbyes, his lips pressing against her forehead tenderly.

As they pulled away quietly, the empty shell of Turbo moved a strand of black hair from her eyes and smiled. His own LED eyes seemed to brighten when he did. This ghost... he had a faint idea of who she was, and what importance she was to former Turbo. He knew what Turbo used to call his baby girl. He knew just how to cuddle her and pacify her fears. So maybe he wasn't a ghost at all. Maybe this _was_ Daddy. Maybe he just... just looked different. And that he'll be just fine, and they'll all go home and live happily ever after. These all were the dreams and fantasies of a child, but she wasn't about to give up on them. They were her only hope, right?

She continued to tell herself that. That they weren't actually saying goodbye... he was going away for a short while, like Ralph did.

But Ralph had a job... that was a big difference.

Knowing that resisting the truth was futile and surely to no benefit, her lips began to quiver once more, tears stinging her eyes. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't fair! Vanellope tucked her head into his chest and cried harder, shaking her head in denial. He wasn't going to die. He wasn't going to leave her alone. He wasn't going to die. He wasn't going to leave her alone.

"_I...I can't stay, Vanellope_." Code, how she hated him for saying that.

Rage flooded into her eyes, making her pull back and open her mouth to let out a furious scream. "IT'S NOT FAIR!" sobbing harder, she gripped his coat and pressed her face into it, hiding from the world. "It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair..." the baby girl moaned, "Don't leave, please... You-You said you wouldn't leave, Daddy..." He said nothing. Staying silent, Turbo held her head to his chest and closed his LED eyes for a moment... just a moment, before he breathed out powerful words.

"_It's been a long, hard journey for you. But there's nothing to fear anymore..._" He pulled her away and gave her a reassuring, affectionate smile. "..._Everything has happened as it had to._" Vanellope stared through his chest, watching his core pulse and beat weakly. The codes were bursting like sparks from it... Turbo knew he didn't have much longer, as tired weariness washed over him and consumed the character.

"**_I_**_ can feel my **energy** pixels **fading**, **Vanellope**..._" There was pain in her eyes, more tears building up behind the brave face she put on. Turbo put a hand to her cheek, resignedly accepting her sobs again into his shoulder.

"_Hey**, don't make **that** kind of face…**_

**_… I'm _**_happy..._" Forcing a bright and breezy smile, Turbo gripped her face in his hands and felt the tears stream down his cheeks as he stared into those lonely, chocolate speckled eyes. He felt such remorse. He'd broken his promise, now he was paying the ultimate price...

"**_…I... _I **_lived** a while, **long** enough to **meet you**… though our time **together** was **short**, I wouldn't **have** given it up **for the world**.**_" it was true. His baby girl was one of a kind, and he was lucky that she even forgave him for everything he'd done to make her life miserable. There was a moment of utter, plain silence. He began to cough violently, but held her tighter, as if his end were nigh.  
**_  
_**"**_…It's _**_time** for me to **go**…**_" Those big brown eyes released the gushing tears pushing to come out, but she said not a word. Instead, Vanellope Von Speed curled into a tighter ball, pressing her head against the comfort of his chest and the warmth of his arms. Turbo closed his eyes, feeling his core stop beating. As it died with light, and with his last breath before fading into nothingness, he murmured...

"**_... Thank _**_you**.**_"

The blinding cerulean light resumed its place among them, but lasted for a short amount of time. His body became this light of mystery and lit up like the forth of July before he was gone, and the baby girl was sitting alone in the cold, black void.

She was alone. No one would ever love her and cuddle her the way Daddy did. He had left her alone... against his promise... He had broken it. He knew just how terrified she was of this moment to come, and yet he paid it no attention. Turbo left her alone... left her alone...

Struck with grief, the child lay, her eyes frozen wide open, displaying no emotion. The light in her eyes could no longer be seen. She could hear nothing, see nothing... she was immobilized by grief.

Vanellope became nothing but a puppet without strings.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen: The Pain of Reality

She'd been sitting in there for ages, now. Looking at the floor, watching a speck of dust dance in the crisp sunlight. Her filthy black hair just hung lifelessly in her dead eyes of pixilated cerulean. I wanted the old Vanellope back. The old Vanellope who would laugh and smile and light up her eyes to match a patch of sun-kissed dirt. But I knew it was impossible. Without the outlet, the plug was a useless piece of plastic that was, basically, dead. Turbo was her outlet. And Vanellope, poor thing, was the plug... All I really wanted was to see those eyes sparkle again. She'd not spoken a word since we arrived back into Fix it Felix Junior... No, she hadn't spoken at all. Her throat had become useless. Her eyes... well, they were now just specks of colour and shades. It was as though she was just pixilated and there was no will to move, no hard wire or coding.

I tried talking to her, I really did. I babbled to the kid about good times and about Turbo. I tried to show her what he'd wanted for her future-but what he didn't know was that there _was_ not future for her _without_ him. Vanellope did not move. She did not project her lips. She sat there, on the end of her bed in the penthouse, staring, eyes fixated on the carpeted flooring. There was nothing in her eyes. Nothing but baby blue glowing pixels. I, with my throat swollen with choked back sobs, stared at the depressed little angel. His little angel. The agony of seeing someone I love in this state killed me inside. No one deserved their father to suffer before them. No one...

Felix attempted to serenade the child. Vanellope was limp in his arms as he murmured lullabies in her ear, her deaf ear... she saw and heard nothing. The girl was traumatized and in pain, and no pacifying song was going to heal her bleeding wounds. While her eyes betrayed blank reality, in her core, I knew that it was metaphorically shattered to pieces. She was an empty shell, a puppet without strings... An unmoving doll that had not been used, and instead was abandoned among the streets. And Felix could sense this unbearable, unfixable pain. Even the beloved handyman couldn't fix this broken mess, and it made him depressed to see the little thing in such a vulnerable state.

Even Calhoun decided she'd give the kid a pep talk. I tried to warn her that lecturing wouldn't do much, but she promised a different approach. She opened the bedroom door and inspected Vanellope from afar, smiling in quiet lament. Felix and I, baffled and stricken, exchanged glances as the blond nodded to us and closed the door behind her.

We waited outside the room, speaking amongst ourselves mutedly, careful not to interfere with any kind of conversation taking place inside. The handyman's cerulean eyes betrayed fear and concern; it wasn't long until he was beside himself with worry, fiddling his thumbs and fidgeting in a disturbed manner. I patted his back gently and sighed, eyes lulling over. We were so distraught that we hardly heard silent sobbing coming from the door, which slightly muted the sound from being heeded. First, we thought maybe, just maybe that it might've been Calhoun. Sure, it was practically impossible for her to cry, but it was even less likely for Vanellope to, seeing the state she was in.

Or so we thought.

Thus, as we opened the door and peered in, it was not Calhoun who was crying. No, the woman was far from it. In her arms she held a crying child, a bawling living being, something Vanellope had not shown for so long. Calhoun gave one look at us peeping toms and sent us flying out of the room and skidding on our butts. I guess we deserved it, trying to push our way into Vanellope's cold, empty life like that. Tamora had everything under control- we should've put more faith into her. Hence, we were forced to listen to those horrible sobs of pain, of agony, of remorse. The girl did not speak, but her stifled cries spoke for her. And that was what made it so horrible to bear.

During the brief agony we experienced while listening to those atrocious, unbearable and inhumane cries of remorse, Felix's eyes gave a flash of cerulean pain. He hated this altogether. Vanellope had wormed her way into all of our hearts and she was a loving, unbreakable spirit, but was shattered the moment she laid her eyes on the remains of Turbo's pixels. And she certainly wasn't the only one. But we had moved on, carried our pain with us. That was something she was unable to do; a child like that clung to memories until it drowned her with grief. I couldn't let that happen- she was the kid I'd never had, or more so the sister I'd never attained. If she was going down to the dumps of agony—well, I was going with her, no matter the tyrant cost.

When changing status quo, it was indescribably easy for me. I didn't mind being an older brother, a Good Guy for once. For me, change was heaven. But even when we got back, I didn't expect to be happy with the changes we would meet there. Crippled storylines and shattered bricks, the effects of Banner. But no! Instead, the changed that welcomed us home was the normal play up and the consoles in tact. Our home was fine, like we had never left. The news and the sighting left me a startled and perplexed mess—don't get me wrong, I was delighted to see my home still pieced together; but the light that had come from the pedestals emitted a moreover healing process. Not only demolishing Banner, but also sweeping over the land and throughout the plugs.

Maybe it was just me, but when Vanellope passed out when she did, I swore I saw a spark of blue just above her head. It grew brilliantly more luminous with the passing second until we were swept up and away with its power, like a boulder being passively shoved in the influence of a river shore. We were merely salmon migrating up the river, fighting against its current, but the current won. We were weak fish, out of the water and into the open air… Okay, okay. Enough with the metaphors and similes. What I'm saying though is that the power propelled us all through the game central station and we flew unconsciously into our game; Fix It Felix Junior. Oddly enough, it was deserted and abandoned, something that it never was. Merely an empty, cold shell of a greeting home. It was at that moment when I wondered where on Earth "Gene and Company" was.

Then I noticed the blaring, empty and pixilated look in Vanellope's eyes. Like she was a robot. Like she was a Cybug being sucked into the maw of the beacon where nothing survived. She opened her mouth, but nothing but the intolerable sound of a Mac computer start up was heard. The cold, callous sound sent chills down my spine. Then her eyes slowly peeling open to a deep depth of bleak, empty blackness. She was nothing but hardware and programming now.

And that's how we came to be here, sitting on the floor, listening to that non-robot crying non-robot tears and curling in a non-robot-like way into the comfort of Calhoun's arms.

"…What do we do, Felix?" I inquired mutedly, my eyes glazing over at the prospect of a unstoppable sobbing little girl. The handyman glanced at me with pearly blue eyes, darkening a little at the hopelessness of the situation. I shared his thoughts personally.

"I don't know. Tamora hasn't been like this before. Protective, I guess… but consistently so? Over someone she hardly cared about before? It doesn't make too much sense. She's very gentle at times, though, but discreetly—that would explain why she sent us out." His eyes were glazed over in exhaustion as he continued. "This is too much anarchy. First, Vanellope is nothing but a puppeteer without the strings. If she were in her game there would be a different outcome—the game would be her strings. But even so, she would just be an emotionless and mindless drone, just like the programmers designed us to be."

That concerned me. "There's gotta be something we can do. She can't just get in that state without a way out, can she?"

Felix gawked at me with cerulean blue eyes that spoke of despair. "People get cancer without cures, don't they?" he countered. Likewise situations, he just shoved my words down my throat. I gave a small but recognizable pout and gloomily gazed back towards the mess that Banner had started. Why had there been such a virus? Before he came, everyone lived out their lives with zeal and grace, something we had been taking to for a long time. But then, Turbo wouldn't have grouped together with us… And Vanellope wouldn't have bonded with him… Somehow, I think that might've been better if she hadn't had. She wouldn't have endured as much misery as she was currently.

I felt nostalgic, the heartache of the past, and tried to rebuff its miserable qualities without taking some down with me. This was all Turbo's fault to begin with… he killed so many of us; Felix's father for fuelling a virus, alongside the twins and Vanellope's maternal parents. And all for what? Just to feed some stupid virus and seal some stupid debt. Why didn't he tell us? We could have helped him. We could have taken the burden off of his weak shoulders. He'd been carrying it around his entire life and someone else needed a chance at it. Geez, the stupid kid needed some lessons on common sense.

"What are you thinking about, Ralph?"

My eyes darkened. "Turbo."

Felix nodded forlornly and pursed his lips together, sealing them in tight. I guess it was no surprise to think about our old friend anymore. "How are you holding up… about that, I mean?" Startled, my head snapped to his baby blue, innocent eyes. I was taken aback, just a little—not many people requested my status or asked how I was. Felix blinked up at me, smiling in a childlike way, awaiting a response. "I mean, Turbo and you were brothers. He was my brother too, but it wasn't as powerful as the link that you had."

"Well…" My stomach did a couple of rolls while I remembered him exploding into shattered pieces of pixels. "I… It's hard to remember what he did, for us and for her. It's hard, I think, to _see_ him just combusting… Into a million pieces, Felix! A… a million pieces…" I press my palm against my face, hoping to secure the ache and the confusion. I missed my brother so much. Why he did what he did, I have a hunch. But it just wasn't…_fair_.

See, he always hauled this kind of remorse with him, you could just feel it waving off his body. The guilt sometimes nagged him into paranoia states, which can cause rather dire issues when we traveled around the Game Central Station and Company. He just was sickened by whom, and what, he was before. Maybe, he thought, if there was a way to repay us back, it would be to save our lives. Which was _stupid_, but in the state he was in, maybe he _did_ think that! Beats me. It's a hunch, as I've stated already. So I'm not going to be accurate. But if you think real hard about something like that, I'm sure it'll just click!

"I don't blame you." I was so lost in my own trance that I had forgotten my current location and company. Felix was beside me, tinkering with his hammer, deeply in a reverie of his own. "I guess when we were little, our youthful innocence never warned us what we would get into. Landlord, what were the games we were playing? Tapper's Cops and Robbers… Mischief like that. I'll bet you a cotton candy cob and root beer meal—bought specifically from Tappers—that that was what influenced him!" At once, the playful twinkle returned to his eyes and he glared at me daringly. "What do you say, belly flopper?"

Somehow, a grin sneaked into my complexion. "You're on, gummy bear!"

"An' remember," he continued, "You can't stowaway to Sugar Rush and get the stuff for the winner for free. I don't think Vanellope would let you, anyway—… *." Just like that random star in the sentence, his eyes widened slightly, and then glanced away in pain. My stomach did a flop again when I thought about those empty eyes. "Maybe we should leave the bet at that…." He confirmed. Holding out his hand, we shook it, and Felix perked up. "Do you hear that?" he inquired, glancing to the room Calhoun had rebuffed us from. I listened; nothing.

"What're you talking about? I hear nothing."

His eyes shone unexpectedly. "Exactly." He pointed out, cerulean eyes narrowing with satisfactory. "She's stopped crying!" I hadn't realized this, to which I responded with an excited leap.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" I demanded, and immediately bolted from my spot and burst into the room. "Vanellope!" I cried. "Vanellope, are you—" and then I stopped. There, in Calhoun's lap, was a blank state little girl, just like before. Empty. Lifeless. She hadn't changed at all since the crying outburst. Disappointed, I slumped my shoulders and felt a pout coming on. "Gosh, and I thought it was for real…" Tammie shook her head in a forlorn manner and let the sting of grief wash over her.

"There is still something that needs to be done," she whispered softly, brushing a stray hair from her glowing, pixilated eyes. "And then we will sit and wait for her to wake up…" Tucking Vanellope like a kitten into her chest, she roused from the bed and strolled out the door. "C'mon, little soldier… Let us go see this through."

"Where are you going?" I asked, instantaneously trailing after her like a lost puppy. To this, Calhoun glanced over her shoulder with those astute cerulean eyes. Then she gave me a firm smile, a wink to Felix, and headed out the door into the open air. This obviously left me as puzzled as an octopus trying to put human shoes on. "Felix…?" I leisurely turned my ways back to the staircase, where the handyman sat at the top with his chin in his hands. He gave me a beatific smile. "Where…?"

"Nowhere," he assured me, although I swear to landlord that he was lying. There were stars in his innocent aqua eyes as Felix stood and waltzed down those stairs, turned a corner, and disappeared from sight.

I did remember something that Calhoun did once, as she told me. The life blood of our game was a grave yard for, usually, our characters. But when they were in sync with extension cords, linked in the Game Central Station, they ultimately downloaded all memories into the Game Central Station and there was a room filled with jumbled up memoirs. No one entered there. No one dared breathe in that very space. It was the daunting and flitting image of an elf owl. Anyways, Calhoun went there to pay her respects to her former partner before turning to a new life with Felix. But what did that have to do with Vanellope?

Her arms filled with the heavy load, Calhoun pounded past various characters as she sought out that one little room. So tiny, but so very heavy.

Her arms slid a little when they felt for the knob, shoving with all her might. It gave a hissing sound and, with little effort, was ajar enough for her to slip in quietly and mutedly. She didn't after all, need the essence of other's concerns to be flitting above her head as she struggled with the empty pocket in her arms. Vanellope was nothing without her father, and Turbo would be nothing without Vanellope. It was the unique yin and yang connection that made them closer than two magnets. In a sense, they required each other to continue to live on in the proper manner they were intended to.

Her eyes sucked in her surroundings. It had not changed one inch. It was a cold, empty blackness. Chills crawled up her spine as Calhoun sought light and luminosity, and instead strolled out into the empty space with the same amount of confidence of a proud cat. Her eyes fixated on a strong veil of white that hung between both worlds—the dead and the living. Without hesitation, she lay Vanellope's body on the ground and looked up into the incredible snowy shade and, bizarrely enough, spoke to it.

"Hey, Turbo." Talking to the dead, she was. Many would declare her on the verge of sanity. "I just… wanted to check up on you. You're probably as good as gone anyway, far beyond the likelihood of afterlife, but still." There was no response, no status quo nor change of scenery. She did not expect this. "If you're there…just listen to me, because you're gonna wanna hear this."

"_If you're there… Listen… hear this…_"

_His eyes flickered like candles in the gloom, like he was waking up after a long nightmare, his plans going awry. He was in no particular space that he was capable of naming; he was nothing, in nothing. A part of it, one with it. In the dark space he called his new home. But, there was light. A beautiful light. Flooding his eyes, his arms, his heart, his mind, staining every dark part of him a vital white. He felt his fingers twitch and stretch. He was renewed, revived. But so horribly alone with this light._

_But he noticed something about it. It stretched like a veil across his perceiving vision, but there was nothing everlasting about it. It was almost trying to separate him from the real world. But comfortingly. Acting as a pacifier because it was well aware that he could never, ever return and see his baby again. Or his friends, or family, or brothers who had been there for all the hard times. Yes, he was alone. Now, it was all he'd ever be, trapped in this gloomy void, death reminders swallowing him on every turn._

_But he looked through the light… Saw Calhoun! Excited, Turbo leaped to his feet and pelted to the screen, hungrily taking in her face. It had been so long since he had been in the company of another character. "Calhoun! Calhoun, can you hear me?!" he practically blared the words in devastation, yearning for her sense to fall upon him. But she looked ahead. Almost through him. Ignoring every inch of his visual skin. What? She should be looking._

_"If you're there, Turbo, I should tell you that I shouldn't be here." He was glad she still came. "I wanted to talk to you… since everyone thinks you're dead._

_But you are, so I don't know if you'll hear me. So, hear me out, will you, soldier?" her hand propped itself on her hip. "You being gone took its tolls on everyone. Ralph and Felix, who are grieving for their brother. Me, who's grieving for her husband and friend…, but you have no idea what you've done to her." Her voice shook in rage, fists balled. "You were so selfish. You had no idea what you meant to her, and you threw it all away. Code, Turbo. She's been gone for too long now. She's a mere puppet without a puppeteer." Who was she talking about? Turbo was in a state of blind confusion. "She's just an echo of what she once was… I hope you're happy."_

_"Happy? H-happy about what?" He strained to comprehend, but Calhoun had turned away in quiet lament._

_"One more thing." Her whisper was like a leaf crinkling in the dead night air. "You'll probably want to see the damage." And she swooped down, gripped something, and cradled it in her arms, back facing him. And when she finally turned around, Turbo's heart stopped._

_His baby._

_Broken._

_Souless._

_Lifeless._

_And that right there was Turbo's breaking point._

_"**GET ME OUT OF HERE!**"_


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty: I Am Here

He pounded. Shrieked. Wailed. "Get me out of here!" He cried, louder than his full intent. Calhoun was turning away, taking his baby away from him. "NO! You come back here _right now_!" His words fell on deaf ears—she had reached the exit and was closing the door. "Don't leave! _Please_…" As the portal slammed close and the echoes of it laughing flew like a pack of mockingbirds around the room, Turbo was left alone with the gloomy darkness.

He had always loathed the dark. It sneered at him, grinning with malevolent beasts that liked to toy with his apprehension. But now a dark void was his new home, trapped forever more in a sea of gloom and no candlelight. Somehow the sensation left him shivering for light, besides the unnatural border between worlds. Not living, not animate or breathing—just like him. Still. Lifeless.

And lonely.

So very lonely.

Vanellope was such an innocent, beautiful little girl. And now she was nothing. His heart sank into the depths of depression. He yearned for someone, something to assure him of her health. But no, he was alone, as stated. She had no guardian angel, no protector—not a ghost one, anyway. He had no spies at his fingertips to elucidate everything that went on in her empty, vacant life.

He had never wanted this! None of it! He just wanted to protect his girl… But now he knew that everything had a cost and consequence. There was a sacrifice for every ordeal, a condemning fault to whom to blame. It _was_ his fault, he miserably let dawn on him. It was _his_ fault…

_You're fault._

He could hear snarls of her former friends as they looked down on him with such incredulous looks that made him burn in shame. Oh, Turbo was such an idiot. How could he have not foreseen this approach? Of course she was gone, and of course it was his fault why—he knew now. He was what kept her going. Through the good or the bad, he made her life adventure and fun, no matter the deleterious feat she embarked. He had assumed she was flawless, that she was unfazed by his presence. That nothing he did she cared about, and lived every day like her last—to the very end.

But he had underestimated her.

So very much.

He was the adventure spark—he was her teddy bear. He kept her alive even after all these years. There had been a time where he had been so close to finishing her off once and for all—but when he looked down, into those marvellous brown eyes, and those cheeks of red rose and beatific look of child innocence… He, King Candy nor Turbo, did not find the strength within himself to expose her to death. She was so beautiful, a cosmo in the bitter dead winter. A precious child such as herself, no matter the annoyance, did not deserve such a fate. As he had walked away from the scene, he could recall her big, wondrous eyes peering at him as she gradually sat up.

He could just hear her little voice now: _why_ _didn't he hurt me?_

He would never, not even now, be able to begin to tell her.

Because she meant more to him than even he knew.

"_Turbo…?_"

He gasped, feeling the presence of someone else travel up his spine. He was accompanied by another being! Excitement pumped into his veins. He hungrily scanned the surrounding areas. But the void held no other hostages.

Confusion was making his head spin. "I… I don't get it. I could have sworn someone was speaking to me…"

"_I was_," a female voice interjected. "_And you won't see me for peculiar reasons, but let me get to the point. Turbo, my name is Toyota… Toyota Zoom. I was your first ally in Turbo Time, but that was forty years ago… So your memory, if any at all, would be faint of me._" His heart accelerated as memoirs of his childhood shot through his head like five bullets through hardened steel. Her voice, her face, her _eyes_… Those eyes he would never forget. No one could. They stared into your very soul, clear blue and stunning silver. She was diagnosed with Heterochromia iridum, just as the programmers had intended for her to be.

Just to make her look different… and _unforgettable_!

"I know you!" he cried, a smile gracing his lips as he spun around, trying to glimpse those fantastic eyes. "You were my friend! So shy, so independent… you didn't like Ralph very much, did you? Because you were afraid that he was going to hurt you!" he chuckled at the old and barren memories. "If I didn't know any better, you were the quietest and soft spoken child in _Turbo Time_. Haha, those were _great _times… I—"

"_And_ _you, the classy chatter box who didn't seem to stop talking about himself._" Toyota's voice was cold and loathing. "_The one who destroyed our game… and our lives_." His stomach lurched as he recalled that day. Those poor, innocent people… they died at his feet, they died… all because of him. It was all his fault.

"Please forgive me." His voice was nothing more than a whisper. "Toyota, I loved you and Natalie more than anything… I _never_ meant to do what I did…!" had he mistaken their relationship? Did she really loathe him that much? What had he done to induce her behaviour? This had happened so long ago, after all…

"_If I may add_," Toyota raved, "_You were mixed up in the virus business, am I right? I got you out of that son of a gun's face, though… remember that dream you had?_" her voice had the quality of a camera recorder. "_The one where I told you how to stop Banner?_" The look on his face said it all. "_That's right, Turbo. That was me. What Banner truly was is a Bicentennial Arrangement of Negativity and Non-capacity, hence Elimination of Refreshing. Obviously, Banner for short._"

Her sigh was as soft as a summer breeze in the evening light. "He was such a sweet boy, Turbo… But he was so sick, was to grow up and be a virus. In a way… He was just like Ralph."

Turbo's face was contorted with a vehement snarl. "_He was nothing like Ralph_. Ralph was—"

"_Rebellious_?" the voice interposed with a tranquil tone. "_Seeking something greater?_" The voice told him that a smile tainted his friend's lips. "_Turbo, if only you knew. If only you knew the him inside… He was just like you… But_," she added, "_You made amends for your… 'former glory'. He… well, he didn't have much time for that, now, did he?_" his face burned in shame, attempting to speak. "_It's alright, Turbo. It was either kill or be killed. That's too hard a decision…_"

The memories were choking him in the black mist. He jerked his head back and shook himself free of their iron grip, refreshing his mind with greater memories. "I'm sorry, Toyota. I guess… maybe I didn't have much time to redeem him. For his own good…" Her soft voice sighed peacefully; the action affected a soft glow in front of him. A faint outline of a little girl (it made his heart melt—she looked like his little Vanellope!) came into vague view. Her eyes were the brightest thing he had see in a long time.

What was worse was the smile she wore—the sad, forlorn weeping grin that swept tears down her cheeks and mode those luminous eyes dim direly. "No, Turbo… You couldn't change him—only he can change himself. But you—you could have helped influence him on that path of retribution." All this speaking of death… and he had already endured the experience. But if this was the afterlife… how were they even there?

Where was Banner himself?

"Toyota…?"

A smile graced her lips. "There's no need to explain yourself. Everything here uses energy—including your thoughts." Smirking impishly she added, "We're only here because we're only memories. Clones. Echoes of what and who we once were. That's what this place is all about, you know."

"C-clones?" he stammered in horror. "O-o-only memories—echoes?!" How was he supposed to believe that he was a mere _copy file_ of the real thing? His memoirs, his feelings towards Vanellope… they all felt so authentic. _Too_ authentic to be just a copy file.

"I know." She said softly. Her faint figure reached out and stroked his shoulder—her fingers were soft and cool to the touch. "My memories were like that, too. They were so strong, too powerful. But the truth is, Turbo, you're dead. And there's only us, mere spitting images because this big boy's gotta eat something." She gestured to the wall of brilliant light. "It's the save file." He tilted his head toward it, golden eyes glimmering, naturally intrigued by its mystification.

But his baby was gone—

No.

She was dead.

Not really dead, but, virtually… He choked for breath as the tears spilled in, pushing out the barrier his eyes created. He could not bare the thought. If he ever laid his pollen eyes upon her lifeless figure again, he would feel faint hearted. He would feel his stomach lurch and his eyes swivel. Most of all, he would scream. Scream her name. Sob for her soul to return to its home. Turbo was not generally a sentimental man, but Vanellope had wormed her way to his heart and very core—she was something he cherished with all his might. He sought to protect her. To adore and tenderly care for her.

But how could he do that if she was neither here nor there? He yearned for her, yes—but he didn't want her to have to waste her life in order to do so. He'd rather her to push through life and become independent—if not alone—even if it meant she would be heart broken. It broke his own to think about such tendencies, but Turbo knew that his baby must move on with her life and be proactive. She had to demonstrate resiliency. Vanellope was strong to the core—such a girl could not be softened by the mere fact that he was no longer with her physically. But he hoped with all his might that she knew he'd be with her, in her very precious memories.

Turbo closed his eyes and sat down, leaned quietly against the barrier of pale milky light. The contact sizzled him like static electricity, but did no further damage as he sighed forlornly and pondered in his petite reverie. He'd never felt so… _depressed_. Toyota took a seat beside him and stared ahead.

"I can't imagine what that's like."

Turbo felt another sigh exhaling from his nonexistent lungs. "It's horrible. Everything that you've ever loved—gone, just like that. Separated from you forever."

He could somehow hear her faint, joking laugh in his head. Though the gag was weak…

_Well, in that case, I can relate to you._

A little nervous habit visualized in his complexion; he chewed his lip anxiously. Toyota winced slightly. _Bad joke, huh?_ She asked tentatively. He bobbed his head gradually, eyes heavy with grief. _Sorry._ He waved it off with a hand and wrapped himself to his knees, wondering vacantly why she was choosing telepathy over speech but not daring to manifest them into thoughts.

Instead, he looked up at her. "Why did you come here, Toyota?" the tone shared no particular indifference as she peeped up at him and threw him the most ingenious look he'd ever seen.

"I wanted to tell you that there's… still hope for you." He cocked his head in confusion, triggering the elucidation. "Look, Turd-o, I already told you that we're memories… But these memories have little energy to go back. That's why it's impossible." Her eyes flew elsewhere. "Which is why I've gathered some people from around the save file to do what we are to do next. And I'll tell ya, you ain't gonna be happy to see some of them, but they are willing to risk it."

Turbo made an attempt to voice his thoughts when something sparked before the pair, glitches exploding into various patterns of numbers. Explosions of green and blue lit his eyes like fireworks as he flailed for an understanding of what was occurring, but when no placid idea came up, he simply watched, amazed, as the glitches grew and grew and grew…

A bridge was built from these hues and tints, and the figures walking across it were faces he recalled and some he could not. There were only six strolling up to meet him, conversely, and Toyota was right—he wasn't happy to see some of them. "I'm so happy," she squealed. "It's been so long since the group has been together!" Turbo chuckled softly when she went to greet Ford, Dash, Montana, and Nitro; all NPC's of Turbo Time. He looked on as she welcomed them with a hug and chattered like a hummingbird. Such zeal and joy somehow filled him with sadness. Had he not destroyed their game, there would be no need for long-distance reunions and happiness to see them all. Not that he was against her behaviour—he just thought that her happiness was only for the fact that she hadn't seen them in decades.

He wondered to the barrier again, putting a hand against its soft, encasing bubble as he looked to the location where Calhoun had carried his baby girl off.

"_Our_ baby girl."

He gasped, spinning around in horror, to see a couple that he had not seen for ages.

Vanellope's mother and father.

In spite their former statement, their eyes were not flooding with rage of fury. No, rather with affection and gratitude as her mother—with the same raven hair and soft milky cheeks, but Caribbean blue eyes—kissed Turbo's cheek. "Thank you for watching over her." She breathed in his ear. Her voice resembled the closest sound to honeysuckle and was the sweetest sound his ears had ever perceived. He found himself giving way for a wide smile as she linked hands with her husband, who shared equal thankfulness.

"Without you, she'd had been alone for so long." He added with a baritone voice. Turbo shook his head.

"Without her, I'd have never sought out redemption, sir, with all due respect. Thank you both for accepting me as her guardian before… I did what I did."

French Ven-Ella gave him a pitiful smile as Jelly Dean's bean brown eyes sparkled. "Our baby has always been… intent on few things. But never like she was with you… She experienced minor comprehension for Banner's death, but was just… her sadness is almost indescribable." Turbo sighed and let his eyes slide shut. Guilt was churning his stomach. Had he shown more responsibility by not bonding with her in the first place… He could have saved his baby girl from destruction.

"Miss Ven-Ella, Mr. Dean… Did Banner come here after his death?" he wanted to know that more than anything at that second. Though his concern for Vanellope was still waveringly strong, he could do nothing for her in the state he was in and could only converse with his enemy for the time being. When they merely shook their heads, he prompted another question.

"What… what are we doing here? All together, I mean."

He was stunned to see their eyes glow as they gave each other knowing looks. "You'll find out." Ven-Ella promised him, her cerulean eyes batting against the gloomy darkness.

He was more so frightened at would he would become—

Or what would become of him.

"Alright now, you all ready?" I asked her, knees bent as I hunched over her protectively. Her eyes would never change, nor her vacant expression or behaviour, but we had managed to make her move when prompted, and knew that this was all she could really need for racing. Her colleagues would be concerned for her health, but tomorrow was Wednesday, and the holidays would be over—we couldn't provide her with shelter when that home would be tumbling at my wrath. Trust me, it was safer for her to be where she belonged before anything happened. We'd help her and attempt many times to heal her—we weren't going to give up until we exceeded our former results.

We were outside, and the weather was unusually bright and sunny. But maybe that's why it was titled "Niceland". We were just outside the train station, in the bed of grass and flowers as I checked her over. We had provided her with a backpack full of goodies—to bribe her into coming back to us, to no avail—and some water in case she was quenched. She was capable of feeding herself if necessary, and it gave me some relief to know, even if I was going to miss baby-feeding her. She was so quiet and peaceful.

My hand on her shoulder, I flashed her a toothy grin in hopes of a benefit. But her eyes remained at their hollow, vacant state as her little head tilted to meet mine, shoulders slouched over and a pout playing her lips as she sucked on candy. If you could get past the fact that this cover wasn't really her, you'd have thought nothing had ever occurred. Promptly, I smiled. "All righty, kiddo. Yer off to the big city again without my help. I hope yer gonna be okay." Silence answered me, and I suppressed the sigh that collected in my throat for another day.

"Look, Vanilla…" I stood up; put my hands on my hips with a forced type of enthusiasm. "You ain't gonna be a good racer if you can't talk, you little cavity." And I continued to affectionately lecture her. "You won't smile and wave to your fans, you won't glitch when you need to—your super power, Vanilla! It… it was your super power…" I could no longer suppress the wavering in my voice—I just wanted that lively, zealous little girl back. I didn't want this deformed, distorted version.

Her face remained stony and still, except—her eyebrow was twitching. My heart accelerated as I watched it eagerly, waiting for something—_anything_—to come up. But the quivering stopped and she resumed her naturally soft face, no expression playing her complexion as she gazed up with those mesmerizing, pixilated eyes. Cerulean, teal… both hues danced frivolously in her eyes as the background resumed darkness.

Only darkness.

It was quite depressing if you think about it.

_3rd Person_

He stood tall once more, smiled at her with what strength he had left, and then Ralph let his eyes wander elsewhere. But with sudden mystification he froze, his jaw falling slack with incredulous disbelief as they fell into horror. Empty Vanellope had no choice to pursue his direction, her eyes soulless as she prepared herself to examine the information. She leisurely turned her pace. Eyes half closed. Vacancy a blunt truth.

When her eyes laid eyes on the sight before her, her very pupils shrank as the astonishment reverberated throughout her body—shaking her to her very core. The pixels in her eyes were suddenly gone, settling with only gloom that engulfed her eyes. Her strength sapped as she stood slouched, her eyes all for the sight ahead.

A lone man, his hand on that station's beam as he grinned uncontrollably. He was staring at those very two, eyes boring into their faces. But he was all for her.

Because.

It.

Was.

Her.

**_TURBO_**.

The thought shook in her head. The wiring undid itself, wheeling over and over. As the process occurred, she took a step forward. Stared at him as he echoed her with those two steps.

And then, the malware released her force.

She snapped.

She ran to him at full speed, her voice a high-pitched scream. "**_TURBO!_**" It came out as a rusty, uncontrollable wail. Tears replaced her eyes. They faded into their normal, chocolaty hue.

_FOOM!_

She slammed into him, toppling him over. His laughter filled her ears. She felt blessed. A splash of tears flooded her cheeks as she consumed him, laid on top of him as he sobbed in sync. His arms wrapped around her little shoulders as he cried, embracing her with warm fingertips, cradling her in a rocking position.

"I'm here," he sobbed with zeal. "I-I'm here."


End file.
